A Dustland Fairytale
by nothingbutmybones
Summary: Dawn Edwards is mentioned only briefly in the novel, "The Dead Zone" by Stephen King. This is a fiction on if she would have come up more in the novel, and if her and John became lovers. (I did use dialogue from both the novel written by Stephen King, and the script for the 1983 film. This idea, however, was entirely my own.)
1. Prologue

_**"S**__**aw Cinderella in a party dress, but she was looking for a night gown.**_

_**I saw the devil wrapping up his hands, he's getting ready for the show down.**_

_**I saw the ending when they turned the page, I threw my money and I ran away. **_

_**Sent to the valley of the great divideOut where the dreams all hide,Out where the wind don't blow,Out here the good girls die,And the sky won't the here the bird don't do sing,How here the field don't grow,Out here the bell don't ring,Out here the bell don't ring.**_

_**Out here the good girls die..."**_

_**-**__The Killers (A Dustland Fairytale)_


	2. Volumne One

Volume 1.

I.

When she came into school that Monday, Dawn Edward's heart was taken and squeezed in the fist of reality - only to have it shattered. She watched as the pieces scattered pathetically across the dull, gray carpet of her senior class English teacher's classroom. Not Mr. Smith.. Not Frankenstein, not her sweet and beautiful English teacher, Johnny. This just couldn't be. Quickly, she cupped her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking out loud and making a complete fool of herself in front of her fellow class-men. A few of the drama queens in the class had already begun to tear up, or cry into their arms while Dawn stared with wide eyes at Miss King, whom looked completely in her own state of shock. But not as greatly shocked as Dawn was. A few of her class-men's eyes drifted to her- everyone knew Dawn had a crush on Mr. Smith. She was made fun of constantly for it, but it never really got to her too much. It was a running joke. For the students and the teachers.  
Her wide blue eyes drifted to the few drawings she had made Mr. Smith over the school year. He had hung them with magnets on the corner of the chalkboard that was closest to his desk. (He would have put them away for safe keeping, had she not demanded he hung them for show). It wasn't abnormal for her to stay after class with him, and help with grading papers, or clean off his chalkboard; sometimes she would just stay to talk to him. He was a wonderful listener, and a wonderful advice-giver.

The one glance at his teacher's desk was enough to send her over the edge, and all at once she felt the warm and salty tears began to flow.. Pathetically, she covered her face with her hands to try and hide herself away from all the eyes but it was no use. Blood was rushing to her cheeks.. it was roaring in her ears. Sobbing noises stifled from her, and before she could have been aware of it, she was trembling terribly. A hand was placed on her shoulder, making her flinch gently - but by the smell of the form next to her, she realized that it was the vice principle, Sonja King. (It was a well known fact that the principle always smelled of honeysuckle and mint, probably from the several bowls of potpourri she kept in her office). Her voice whispered gently into Dawn's ear, but at first the girl couldn't make out the words. Muffled sounds at first.. As distant as the faint whispers that were being exchanged around the classroom. Then a warm voice, whispering to her. "_Dawn, honey, would you like to go to the nurse and gather yourself? Are you going to be ill? Come on, come to my room. I don't have a meeting this period, come on dear._"  
Dawn shook her head, rising to her feet and grabbing her book bag, throwing it carelessly onto her right shoulder and following Miss King out of the room. Once she was away from the eyes, she could speak at last though it was extremely muffled and tear filled. Quickly, she halted on her toes. "_I'd like to go- hh-home._" She stuttered gently over her words, but Sonja nodded and guided her to the nurse's office where she watched helplessly as the poor girl wept into the phone. Dawn felt the eyes burning sympathetically into the back of her head, and her cheeks got hot with her own sadness and rage.. It was always an unpleasant feeling, the feeling of people's eyes stuck on you as if you were some kind of freak.

She had gone home early, but had joined a group of students in their trip to the hospital in east Maine. EMMC. She was in a soft gray pea coat, and a pair of faded out jeans that fitted her closely. Her hair was braided, but it looked like it had been done quickly - to make herself look presentable. She merely had to look at the depth of Sarah Bracknell's face, the face of Johnny's beloved, before she burst into tears - and a nurse that had walked up, grabbed her shoulder and asked her to leave. Sarah held an arm around Dawn's shoulders protectively, and asked the nurse to be patient with her, that she'd come around but Dawn only protested. "_I don't want to stay._" She said, through a tear-choked voice. Dawn rushed out of the waiting room in a hurry, and knocked over something or other but she didn't look back or fix it; just kept going. Just keep moving, don't faint. Keep moving.  
The next and last time Sarah had seen Dawn Edwards that day, and for a further week was when she glanced out the window of the hospital. She crossed her arms over her chest with a sympathetic sigh, watching the girl hugging her knees and crying outside in the chilly October air. Quickly she moved away from the window, sitting back down next to Herb and Vera Smith. Tears came and went, and Vera's lips moved rapidly as she read her Bible.

Five years passed since Johnny Smith was admitted to the hospital, and since Dawn Edwards wept over her beloved English teacher.

**II.**

Dawn Edwards had graduated high school, without a chance to thank Johnny Smith, her favorite teacher- though she did include his name in her speech. She visited him at the hospital once or twice, but it wasn't a normal thing for a student to visit a teacher at the hospital, and eventually she stopped seeing Johnny Smith. She moved on with her life.  
She went to college and got her bachelor's degree, majoring in English. She dated a few men in her college years, but found herself thinking over and over again without fail that the entire male population was made up of slobbering pigs, obsessed only with their dicks, and how many skirts they could yank down. The girl who graduated with honor's at the top of her class was doing fairly well by the time Johnny Smith woke up from his five year coma- waking to the realization that he had lost almost everything he had held dear.  
His lover, Sarah Bracknell had married and was now Sarah Hazlett, and his job at Cleaves Mills was also disposed of. He had been easily replaceable, the world was full of unemployed English teachers. Many months of his therapy passed, along with many of his own tears and screams.

It had been five years and eight months until he had again seen Dawn Edwards, but she still arrived just the same. When she did, the memory of her was a haze...

"_Johnny, you have a visitor._" Marie Michaud, whom was John Smith's nurse, said quietly to him. He liked Marie, she was always so sweet to him. He predicted, some months back, that her boy, Mark's eye surgery would be a success. It turned out he had been right, but Maries had never treated him the same since. No one ever did. She smiled slightly, as if to say through silence that he should probably see this anonymous person, whom had come to see him. As if a secretary telling her boss with her eyes, "You should probably take this call." Johnny moved his eyes towards the door, before he took in a breath and merely nodded carelessly. It was a good day, pain wise. He hardly felt a thing, and in his own opinion he didn't look too dead for comfort.  
"Sure, sure." he said quietly against his sore throat, combing a hand through his thick brown mane, which had seemed to grow straight up off his head during his many years of sleep. Marie nodded with a smile, whilst she moved over to the door marked 23 of the Weizak Clinic.  
With the nod of her head, she exchanged places with a pale, golden-blond haired girl in room number 23. She was a normal height, probably about five feet, five inches at best, of course not adding the given inches from her shoes, but she certainly was not as tall as Johnny was. She had large, kind blue eyes and wore a casual black t-shirt with a pair of form-fitting jeans. High heels clicked on the floor as she made her way towards him, though stopping a few feet away from his bedside. In her hands, she clutched a little red hand bag, which matched her shoes and lipstick. She held the bag in front of her, like a barricade. A nervous smile curved onto her mouth, and she let out an awkward little giggle before looking quickly and bashfully down at her shoes. After a moment of gathering herself, her eyes met with his.

Her face was somewhat familiar, but through a haze of forget.. And perhaps a haze of maturity. If he did know her, he was almost certain she didn't look the same. For this, he said nothing. Only looked at this girl before him - she couldn't be older than twenty three, perhaps twenty four. She had milky, perfect skin and nervous hands as she looked down at him.  
"_Hello, Mr. Smith._" Her voice chimed out tenderly, and a smile curved over her white teeth. Silence crossed the room as he tried to place this voice.. Familiar, yes, but different. He was certain he had never heard a voice that chimmed so, like ringing silence caused a quick throat-clearing from her and she nodded slowly. "_You probably don't remember me too well, I guess you don't have reason to._" A quick giggle after these words, to try to lighten the tension that was screaming off of her. John tried to smile slightly, to ease her, but still the mental pep talk she had been giving herself ever since she drove up to the Clinic never ceased.  
"You're familiar, dear, but do forgive me, I -"  
Quickly, the woman nodded and shrugged. "_It's okay, I wasn't expecting - Well, I was one of your students, um, Dawn Edwards. I used to stay after class almost every day, and draw for you, crazy things like that._" Her cheeks gained a rosy color, and quickly a memory clicked in his mind. This sudden realization mixed with the sudden shock that settled in him. His eyes widened slightly, and with a quick feeling that his jaw was parting and dropping he pulled it back up and stared at her. A brief look up and down, as if to register that this was the same young girl that he taught at Cleaves Mills High School. Dawn Edwards? No.. This couldn't be. Five years couldn't do this to someone like her. Little Dawn, she was always so small and fragile looking- now a grown woman.  
"Dawn Edwards?" He asked, disbelievingly. She nodded in return, smiling. Of course, it made sense. She had Dawn's face, Dawn's eyes.. But now they were only older, more mature. She had always been a pretty girl, but she had grown to be exceedingly beautiful. He smiled as best possible through the shock,  
"Well, I - Hello Miss Edwards." he said quietly, eyes still uncontrollably wider than usual. Dawn grinned, pleased that he remembered her at all. An excited glint began to glitter in her deep doe eye'd hues. Even her tone rose a bit.  
"_Hello there! I um, I saw in the papers about you.. I mean, I saw you in the papers. I guess I had to see for myself, uh,_" Quickly she looked around, nervously still. If someone would have come up from behind her and bumped her, she would have shot through the roof. Again, she looked at him and grinned, shrugging limply.  
"_You're awake._"  
Briefly, Johnny's lightened expression lowered to something darker.  
He swallowed hard before nodding his head, without words. A silence again crossed the room awkwardly, and with a deep breath he quirked an eyebrow upward, nodding as if wanting to change the subject - but keeping on it, because it was the only one that made sense.  
"It has been a while, my dear. How are you?"  
Dawn grinned, blushing slightly as she shrugged. _"Me? Well I'm alright.. I graduated from Cleaves, and went to college, got my bachelor's degree. I might go back and get my master's, but I'm not sure yet.._" she trailed off, but he was quick to keep the conversation going.  
"Where did you graduate from?"  
She smiled a sweet smile, as if content with his interest. "_Um, New York University.. I transferred from Boston. I majored in English, and I got my Teacher's license, but I don't think I'm going to use it.. Teaching isn't really my thing._"  
Envy shot through him, like a needle filled with morphine. A chance to do what he wanted to so greatly, and she threw it away like it was nothing. Very brief fury mixed with this envy, but he pushed it away and shrugged, "Well, it's not for everyone."  
She nodded her head, agreeing. Before another silence crossed the room, he questioned again. He didn't think he could go through another awkward silence between them with keeping the little bit of sanity he had left. "Are you working now?"  
She shrugged again, glancing around almost uncomfortably. "_Yeah, I mean I go from here to there.. Right now, I'm doing some little modeling gigs, but I don't stay at one job for very long. I guess I don't know what I want to do yet. Crazy, right? I graduated college and I still don't know what I like.. Pathetic, I guess._" She giggled quietly, shaking her head at herself. He smiled too at this, only sightly.  
"Well, it's not all that pathetic. It happens to a lot of people, I was lucky.." He paused before mumbling under his breath in repeat, "I was lucky.."  
A gentle pause crossed the room, and her bright blue eyes eyed his form which was covered under the creamy white Clinic sheets. His feet rested exactly at the foot board, because he was so tall. His hands rested comfortably across his chest, and his eyes which had been so bright were even now dying slightly in their light. She smiled, shrugging before she looked down at her feet- only this time, she didn't look up again when she spoke to him.  
"_So, how are you?_" The words were almost squeaked out of her vocal chords, as if she already knew what the answer's tone would be in.  
"Well, I'm stuck in this hospital, and have been for about five years now.. My legs are just about useless, and everything's pretty much gone from my life. I suppose I wouldn't say things are going well-" He looked over at her, only to be taken back by the quick dulling of the brightness in her eyes, and the way she had begun to slouch over. As if she had been struck.  
Quickly, he tried to smile. "But things aren't going too bad, either.. They could be worse," he nodded, as if to reassure himself that this were true. "Much worse."  
The pained look in her hues still did not fade, though it subsided. Her mouth parted, as if about to speak until a loud few beeps came from her bag and silenced her. Checking her pager, she looked back at him apologetically, "_I'm sorry I.. I have to be going._"  
Johnny shook his head, quite relieved at that. "Don't worry, Dawn."  
Her words struck him odd then,  
"_Would you mind if I came back?_" she asked, smiling slightly. This smile, which suggested ever so hopefully that their next meeting would be of so much more ease. With a shrug, and a puzzled look about him he answered with a brief, quiet little "Sure."  
She grinned, the light returning then to her eyes as she straightened up her posture. "_Great.. Well, goodbye._" She hurried out before he could muster a returning goodbye. A deep sigh was taken with her leaving, but before he could contemplate what exactly just had happened, the tiredness that had been hiding away during his reuniting of the student that had gone from his mind, for his whole five years of sleep, swooped down to consume him. He fell into the arms of this sleep gracefully; and without fuss.

Dawn Edwards had been partially right. Their next meeting, while it was brief, was much more at ease than their first. There was much more general laughter involved, along with of course the few awkward silences that were inevitable. They hadn't spoken too much, but when they did it hadn't been as awkward as their last meeting - not as negative, and tentative, though the nervousness still hinted there. By that time, Johnny was out of his bed and on crutches, limping around and trying to regain his legs again as Sam Weizak had predicted. It was a painful process that left him exhausted, but he stuck it out to speak with the young woman. The conversation was a bit more interesting, but though Johnny would admit to other's, like Marie and Dr. Weizak, it wasn't much.  
What did they really have to talk about, anyway? Precisely. Not much.  
Dawn began to visit John regularly, and though it was against many things in his mental Code of Conduct to get so close to someone whom he had formerly taught - he had no one else to get close to. Friendship between them had come easily, as it had come silently and out of no where. But such a normal action that was on friendship's part, hadn't it usually come out of no where, easily? No. It wasn't always easy, but it did come out of no where. Conversations came easily. Nervousness, though it still made its appearance here and there, was quite rare between them in time. They smiled, and she laughed (though more often than he, for it seemed laughter was very rare from him since the accident.)

Johnny's mother's death came very suddenly, on a day that he believed could not have gotten any more horrid. What a terrible day it was - first the reporters and their intrusive questions. He could still feel the horrid eyes stuck on him, seeing him as the freak and monster he was. "Hey, he deserved it. Don't feel bad, just don't touch me Johnny, huh?"  
Then his mother's stroke, followed by her death. He didn't remember too much about that night- only his mother's half-snarling face and her hand hooked into a shocked claw. Only weeping pathetically into the soft sweater of the shoulder, of the golden-blond haired girl. Only that she held him closely, and he felt her hand trail with such tenderness up and down his back, and once in a while through his hair whilst he shed his mourning tears and tried not to scream. Only that he felt soothing comfort from her that night; that comfort that caused for uneasiness between them for the next few days, which eventually faded again with time.  
Sooner than later, Johnny moved from the Clinic, and in with his father - where his belongings from his apartment in Cleaves Mills had already been moved - to recuperate. Still the woman visited him regularly, so that he didn't feel alone.. So that she didn't feel alone. Often she would fall asleep there, and would be gone by the time he woke the next morning, only to be back that night or the night after. He never questioned this, and she never mentioned it. They would sit with each other for hours on end, just talking, or just furthermore enjoying each other's company. At times, they watched TV or listened to the radio, or sometimes they'd just sit in the quiet- comforted only by the presence of the other. Nightmares were a common topic between them, or even her just speaking about little things that happened whilst he was asleep for all those years. Like Janis Joplin's death, and the end of Vietnam. He had already read about these things, in the hospital from magazines that his father gave him, but she explained them deeper, more personally. Either way, their friendship was fair. There were few times when she would seem to grow too close to him, and the air would be filled with awkwardness and nervousness - but other times, things were content between them.

_Content, that is, until the vision..._

**III.**

Johnny sighed quietly, sinking into the couch next to Dawn and holding a glass of water firmly within one hand, and a few pills in the other. His pale blue eyes held on the television screen, before with a quick and fluid motion he popped the pills into his mouth and drank them down. Her voice chimed into his ears, causing his head to turn then away from the screen and focus on her.  
"_Those Castle Rock murders are such terrible thing.. You know, some people are just bat-s**t._" She said quietly, sipping at the tea cup which was warm within her grasp.  
Slowly he looked away from her and back at the screen, only nodding in agreement. "How long have they been going on?"  
"_About three years, I guess. Maybe three and a half._" She said quietly, shrugging and looking down into her tea before she closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against the back of the couch, careful not to get too tired. John nodded, sighing quietly at the new's reporter spoke to him through the television.  
"How sad.." He mumbled, under his breath.  
A silence crossed the room for a few more moments before Dawn lifted her head and yawned, before looking down at her watch. "_I'm going to be late._"  
Catching his attention, John looked up at her as she stood and stretched her tired body, yawning. "Late?" he said quietly, clearly puzzled.  
She looked down at him and smiled slightly, shrugging. "_I'm going on a date with this guy.. I told him I'd be there at seven thirty, and it's seven ten._"  
"A date?" Johnny asked. Her explanation hadn't been enough.  
Dawn looked down at him, before she nodded. "_Yes, a date. You know, man and woman going out.. A date._" She exited the room only to dump the last bit of her remaining tea down the drain, and rinse out the cup to place the glass in the sink to set until washed - either by Herb, Johnny, or herself. When she came back, he was still looking at her.  
".._What?_" she asked quietly, grabbing her coat from the coat hooks.  
"You didn't tell me you were seeing someone." he mused, quirking an eyebrow upward.  
"_Yeah well, I didn't really know myself._" She pulled her coat on over her arms, and buttoned up the front before walking back to Johnny and sitting on the arm of the couch beside him, nudging him gently with her arm. "_Do you have to know everything I do, Frankenstein?_"  
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Of course not.. I'm just worried is all, I guess these murders have me all in a fuss." He nudged her back, a friendly gesture.  
She would giggle, before nodding, "_Well, don't be worried about me.. He's not a killer, I promise. I'll be alright,_" She hugged him around his neck very gently - she was always so gentle. He wrapped an arm around her briefly, until the vision struck him and made him flinch and grip onto her coat uncontrollably.  
She hesitated, tensing. "_J-Johnny?_" A gentle pull, but she couldn't budge from his hold. "_Johnny!_"  
No use- her words faded from his hearing. He froze up, eyes wide as the images flooded into his mind and claimed him; snatched him from reality.

_Burning,. Somethings burning. A screaming in the distance, but it's muffled.. Everything's black.. _  
_He opened his eyes, everything around him is burning. Someones screaming.. Someones screaming. Who?_  
_He looked around him wildly, it was so hot! Everything, engulfed and claimed by flickering flames. Quickly, he tried to move- to get to the source of the screams, but a seat belt held him in his place. His heart began to slam hard against his chest now, beating faster and faster as he realized where he was with the sense of complete horror. _  
_A car. _  
_"__No,__" he yelled, above the flames. A memory, this was him in the car crash - the accident that sent him away for five years, surely that's what it was. But was someone really screaming? Was the car inflamed so? No.. He thought he had gone out the windshield. _  
_He began to wrestle with the strap that held him there, captive, but quit his struggled and called out, "__HELP ME! SOME ONE, PLEASE!__" A shriek came in reply to him, a horrified shriek filled with pain, but no one could hear him over the flames. _  
_His own memory, his own experience, how could this tie in with Dawn? Why did it seem so distant from him? _  
_He looked around wildly, and again began to try and free himself, trying to kick out the windshield, or the door, but failing. He began to slam against a door as hard as he could, and still - nothing. He could feel the flames lapping at his flesh, hear them hiss and crack at him to threaten him. But he wasn't burning._  
_Another loud, panicked shriek rang out; he looked around wildly for it, eyes wide and breaths quick, though the smoke burned his throat. _  
_Suddenly, his heart paused beating. It sank in his chest, and his fights with the seat belt became more and more animalistic as he let out a panicked yell._  
_Strapped, imprisoned by a seat belt in the back seat of the burning car, was Dawn Edwards. _  
_This was not his memory at all, only a vision. It could not be._  
_Smoke claimed his voice, and he could no longer speak nor yell - eyes wide, and feral as he ripped and tore at the strap that held him still. She couldn't hear him, she didn't react. Only fought with her own belt, clawed at the windows and sobbed as the flames burned her. Someone else now, he saw, was in the front seat next to him. A young lady, her face red with gore and singed flesh- her hair burnt off in patches, and her skin blistering from the flames. She was already dead. Blood was oozing from her wide eyes, which had rolled in her head to expose the whites. No one could save Dawn. _  
_This couldn't be. No, no it couldn't be. What day was it? What time was it? He didn't know, the radio of the car had stopped functioning with the flames that burned it. It was in the dead zone. _  
_Sweat poured off of his skin, his heart raced in his chest and his limbs trembled, and suddenly he was forced to be still and watch as the golden-blond haired girl kept at her fight, fighting to survive this, but failing all the same. Suddenly she cried out his name, and slammed her fist against the window- but with no prevail. _  
_The smoke drifted into her lungs, and she coughed violently until she fought no more- the flames consumed her life, and cut her off from the world._

He had not been forced to watch as the flames ate away at her flesh, the way they had the other girl. The vision began to fade, and eventually he was in the room again with her- her eyes wide with horror. He could feel that the sweat hadn't just been in the vision, and quickly he pulled away from her, distanced himself followed by some shocked deep breaths.. The episode had left him breathless; and his hairline had grown damp with his own sweat, from the flames that even still he could feel lapping at his skin.  
His eyes were wide, and his breathing was quick but deep - he looked over at her apologetically, but she seemed just as shocked as he was. She stood very still, and her eyes were wide, like a deer in front of the headlights of a threatening car. For a long moment that seemed like forever, the two stood there as so, neither completely aware of what exactly just happened.  
At last, Johnny let out a shaky breath and regained his senses. After he swallowed hard, he looked up at her and opened his mouth as if to speak - though not a word came from him, only a quiet little stifled noise that resulted from the shock he had felt during the vision. "Dawn, I-" He paused, choking slightly on his words.  
"I'm sorry I.. Well, I-"  
He couldn't speak anymore. Both grew silent while she again stood up straight and took a deep breath. Also opening her mouth to speak, she found that she couldn't find her voice right away.  
"_It's.. It's okay Johnny. I have to go,_"  
"No, wait.. I," Before he could fully object, she had disappeared through the front door, closing it behind her. Another large, shaken breath flowed out of his chest and he looked down at his feet - though he found his hands were still trembling gently.  
It wouldn't happen tonight.. That he knew, not tonight. She was in different clothing, and she was with a woman. A friend, maybe. That didn't stop him from worrying.


	3. Volumne Two

Volume 2.

I.

After he had gone into the bathroom and washed off the sweat that had made his flesh sticky, he sat in front of the television and watched for a report of a fiery car accident. Luckily, as he watched throughout the night the report did not come.  
Minutes passed, hours even, until the rushed sound of feet could be heard on the wooden porch. This startled him, and quickly his eyes were on the door that sounded with repeated, constant knocks. Panicked knocks. Pleading knocks. Knocks turned quickly into hits, and then into violent pounding against the wood of the door. As quickly as he could move, he forced his feet to the door and opened it until he saw her. Her hair was astray from where it had perfectly sat, and her face was flushed with sweat, though it was smeared gently with blood and dirt. Quickly he looked her up and down, her clothes were in a mess, even torn at some places, and her feet were bloody and cut from her heels- she must have ran very far, and very fast. One heel had even broken somewhere, and the shoe hung around her ankle by the strap. He looked at her with eyes wide.  
"Dawn,"  
She cut him off as she stumbled forward, breathless. "_Johnny, I..,_" The words were merely breaths, and she had only set a foot in the door until she collapsed completely, and fell limp to unconsciousness.  
"Dawn!"  
His reflexes acted quickly, and he caught her as she fell against him, though his legs weakened and crumpled under him, pulling him to his knees with the limp, bloody girl held in his arms. "Dad! Dad!" He called, voice booming and echoing through the house, horrified as he held her from the floor, though she wouldn't wake. Herb Smith's footsteps sounded rushed as he flew down the stairs, blindsided by the sight of his boy, holding the girl in his arms. "John!"  
Johnny looked up at him, eyes wide "Help, please. I can't lift her, call Sam, I- I don't know what happened."  
He did know what happened. As soon as he touched her he knew, he could see.

_Breathless, sore, so scared.. It was dark, he got her into an alley. He over powered her, used his strength against her. He was a brute; a big burly man with dark facial hair. His eyes seemed they would be gentle, perhaps they were when he didn't drink. He grabbed her by her shoulders and slammed her against a wall,_  
_"__Alright doll, you're going to listen, and do what I say! Now shut the f**k up,__" He snarled, grabbing her and trying to rip free her clothing. His hand cupped her breast. She whimpered quietly, still thrashing. "No, no! Look, what are you doin- doing? Hey, look.." Alcohol slurred her words, her mind. This wasn't right, he wasn't like this. What was he doing? What caused this? What did she do? She hit his chest, hard enough to confuse him. He backed away very briefly before he grabbed her by the hair, "__You b***h.__" and caused her to scream out- _  
Something blurred out, but soon the vision was clear again. It was in the dead zone.  
_She was running now, running, running and crying. Her feet screamed, but she couldn't stop. If she stopped, he'd catch her and he'd hurt her. _He hadn't taken her, she'd done something.. It was in the dead zone._ She was running and running, never stopped running. Her heel broke, and she stumbled and fell in the dirt but she ran and ran, feet slipping in patches of muddy earth. Johnny's house is safe, it's safe there, he's safe.. Get somewhere safe, quickly and don't stop running. Her vision was a blur, her arms hurt and her legs hurt, and her head hurt - it pounded and pounded with every beat of her chest but still she ran. Up the drive way, onto the porch. Safe now.. She was safe. _

Herb had managed to get her upstairs and into Johnny's bed while John called Sam Weizak, there was no used taking her to a hospital- it was so expensive- when Sam could come. She had to get three stitches on her shoulder, and though her feet and ankles bled terribly they would heal. Sam and Johnny worked with wet rags to clean off the places that were cut so that they wouldn't infect.  
Bruises were plentiful, and Sam promised to bring her medicine upon the morning. She hadn't woken until Sam's leaving, when Johnny sat comfortably in a chair by the window in his room with her. When she came to, at first she didn't speak- only looked around with wide eyes until she figured out where she was and settled.  
A gentle pained moan eased from her chest, and she moved her hand only to cover her face- she hadn't yet noticed him until she looked around again. His name scratched from her mouth, pain was clear within it- along with possible tears as he looked over at her and frowned, not moving until she held out her hand.

"_Johnny.._"  
He stood, before going to sit on the bedside next to her.  
"Hey there.." He tried to smile, though it was a weak attempt. He looked at where her skin wasn't hidden underneath the covers - so many bruises, and still a bit of dried blood was crusted over her flesh.  
He stifled out a chuckle, "You look a whole hot mess, dahlin'." He said gently, receiving the type of reaction he had wanted, a gentle giggle rang out from her. A smile curved on the corners of his mouth, but it didn't hide the worry in his piercing blue hues as he took her hand and held it tenderly.  
Almost instantaneously, they both grew quiet and remembered what happened before she left. Looking away from one another, the air grew awkwardly nervous, but she was the first to speak though quietly.

"_I'm sorry, Johnny. I am, I shouldn't have-_"  
He cut her off, looking down at her while his thumb indomitably began to run back and forth against the back of her hand.  
"Don't, Dawn, it's okay. Just rest now, hmm?" He tried to smile again, though it was again a pathetic action. Quickly he looked down at where his hand would hold her's, and with hesitation he would let it go before returning to his seat by the window.  
She watched him curiously, though she didn't again try to apologize. "_Why do you sit over there, as so?_" she asked quietly, drawing his eyes to her again.  
With a gentle laugh from him, only to lighten the mood, he shrugged.  
"I don't feel like going the whole way downstairs. My uh, my legs are sore so I.. I'll just sit here for the night, perhaps I'll turn on the TV or something later."  
He nodded to the screen in front of the bed, up atop one of the dressers. With a reassuring smile, John would go back to looking out of the window - holding his cane against the inside of his thigh whilst he played gently with the edge of his soft, red sweater.  
She continued to look at him, never pulling her eyes away. Johnny spoke quietly then, glancing at her. "Am I.. Are you uncomfortable? I won't stay."  
She was quick to object, "_No no, it's okay._" Her voice cracked slightly, and she had to swallow hard before he nodded to the end table next to the bed,  
"There's a glass of water there if you need it,"  
She took the glass graciously, and drank some down before she sighed in relief and then put it back. "_Thank you._"  
He nodded, smiling slightly with a shrug as he whispered to her. "Sure." Again, his eyes drifted out the window. She didn't astray from him.  
A silence crossed the room, for a long while until she again spoke. "_Why don't you come lie down, Johnny? It can't be comfortable sitting up like that and trying to sleep._"  
His head shot up from where it had begun to drift to the side, and he looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. She smiled slightly, _"I won't bite you, you know._"  
A sense of nervousness drifted about the room. It was indeed not the most comfortable thing in the world, sitting up this way for so long, but there was a part of him that restricted being so close with her in vain.. Suddenly he began to think of Sarah, "Dawn, I.."  
"_If you don't want to, Johnny, it's fine. It's not life or death._"  
Again the room grew silent. It stayed this way for an uncomfortably long period before he would sigh quietly and look over at her; his gaze was gentle, as it always was. After a moment, as if she had felt his eyes, she used an arm to pull the covers down beside her whilst her back was to him. Glancing back, she grinned tiredly, but humorously all the same. "_I won't eat you._"  
His eyes drifted to the bruises forming on her arm, the one on her neck. The little cut across her collarbone. The places on her that had been bleeding would have stopped by now. He sighed quietly, and though his bottom had begun to grow numb, he fought the urge to lie down for the next few minutes until she had begun to drift to sleep.. Slowly he rose, switching off the lamp before climbing his way into the bed next to her, though he separated them by the blankets, and just ended up covering himself with a throw. She had turned, and was facing him. Though the sudden movement of the bed caused her eyes to flicker open, and she watched as he struggled to get settled. With an attempt to relax, he let out a deep breath from himself before he looked down at her, running the back of his knuckle gently across her cheek before letting his eyes close. He tensed up at the feeling of her shifting, as she moved and rested her head against the edge of his chest- but he didn't move away. Only spoke softly,  
"..Why here?"  
She answered quickly, and without hesitation "_Because it was the first place I thought of.. The first place I thought of that I knew was safe- and I didn't want to be alone._"  
His eyes flickered open, only to stare up at the ceiling. For several moment he did this, stayed very still and stared upward at nothing. Sleep was rare now, unless it was filled with nightmares or memories. After a few moments, he let his eyes slowly shut - and though he would lie there for a while, eventually sleep would overtake him under it's black cloak.  
No nightmares would come to haunt Johnny Smith that night.

**II.**

Suddenly he would stir, and the darkness of sleep turned to the light of morning. Though John's eyes were closed, he could feel the light pouring in from the window and shining on his pale skin. With a gentle, protesting groan he would move a hand up to gently hold it against his brow. Taking a deep breath, he would open his eyes slowly and cautiously- quickly shutting them again with the brightness of the sun. He made a little _unf_ noise before he would again open them, and glance around the room. At first it was difficult to believe that such events had happened last night; Had Dawn come here wounded?  
Had he foreseen her death, in a fiery car accident? With a glance at his side, he would see her. The bruises on her neck, and the position she held with her head resting on his chest as it had when he had fallen asleep would answer his question. Somehow during the night, he had wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  
Without wanting to wake her, John kept still for a while - perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, but his legs began to ache terribly after that, and slowly he would rub his hand up and down her shoulder to wake her. Only enough, however, to get her to shift off of him and turn tail - hiking the blankets up to her chin in an attempt to hold onto sleep for as long as she could. Of course, he was not offended by this as he was amused, as he slipped from the bed and grabbed his cane, from where it leaned against the chair that would have been his sleeping place for the night.  
John lurched with each step, and while his steps were naturally limped, he moved very gracefully.  
When he made his way to the kitchen, he met his father there - reading the paper. With the sound of footsteps, likewise the ones that lurched so as his son's, Herb Smith moved the paper down from his eyes and looked at the man as he entered through the doorway, whom nodded a good morning and routinely went for his pill bottles and a glass of water.  
"Good morning, son." Herb said gently, watching as Johnny popped the medication into his mouth and swallowed it down.  
"Morning, dad."

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, Johnny leaned back and took in a deep breath. Soon enough his head began to pound - gently at first, but the pain grew and grew. He pressed the palm of his hand firmly against his temple with a displeased sigh as the pain continued on mercilessly. With each pound of his heart, it felt as a sledgehammer was being slammed against the side of his head. Slowly, the pain died away then until it was no more and John lowered his hand, sitting back in his chair.  
"How did you sleep?" Herb's voice rang in his head for a moment, before John looked over and nodded  
"I slept fine.." He hesitated, "No frights, for once."  
Herb smiled, pleased. "Well, that's good. You're much past due for a goodnight's sleep, my boy." Slowly, the old man turned his attention back to where he had stopped reading, leaving Johnny nodding merely to himself and mumbling a "Sure," gently under his breath.  
He found himself gently playing with the cane that leaned against his thigh- twirling it around between his fingers and looking at the dark wood. Never would he have thought he would be using such a thing. Never would he have thought that he would have been sleeping in the same bed as Dawn Edwards, with his arm around her and her head on his chest.  
Was he falling for this girl? For the golden-blonde haired, milky skinned female whom was one of the first people to see him awake after his coma. The girl that had become a dear friend, and saw him through all of his physical therapy - all of his healing. The girl that saw him through his mother's death. She had seen his tears, and he had seen her blood. What an odd situation it was, to be thrown into thoughts such as these. In many ways, she knew him better than Sarah..  
_Sarah.._  
Quickly, he pushed the thought from his head; in time to hear gentle, cautious footsteps on the staircase. He rose to his feet, and without intention made his way over to assist her, concern shimmering in his hues as he took her arm and kept her from falling down the last few. "Easy there, you should have called for me."  
Dawn looked at him, only to pull her mouth into a wide grin and giggle quietly. A bruise had formed surrounding a cut over her left eyebrow, but a smile still enlightened her face.  
"_Thank you, Johnny, but I think I'm okay._"  
Just as she said it, she stumbled and he grabbed onto her to quirk an eyebrow upward in a silent I told you so.  
"What do you need, Dawn?" he asked, his voice gentle. "Go back upstairs, I'll bring it to you."  
She looked at him deviously, as if she had found a clever come-back somewhere in the files of her mind. "_I need to get out of that bedroom. Let me go, would you? Don't worry so much._"  
He looked at her, eyebrows still narrowed in worry, though he obeyed her and released her elbow from his firm-but-gentle hold.  
Somewhere in the kitchen, Herb chuckled. She made her way out to the living room very carefully, before calling behind her.  
"_Plus, you shouldn't be going up and down stairs for me either. Your legs'll get sore._"

After quickly throwing her hair up, she sunk into the couch - a few locks still falling into her face, but she just blew them away and closed her eyes.  
He sighed quietly before he followed after her, sitting at her feet and lifting up her legs to make room, only to lay them across his lap before he leaned back and looked at the television screen. The news was on, and the Castle Rock Killer was again the headline. They both watched in silence for a while until he glanced over at her, noticing she still bore her clothes from the previous night - torn and bloody. "You should get out of those clothes.."  
Her eyes flickered to him, amused. At first he didn't understand why,  
"_Geez, Johnny, are you sure you really want me to go all stripper being as jacked up as I am? You must really be desperate._"  
With a gentle groan, he pressed a hand to cover his face, though they both laughed quietly. "You're immature." he mumbled, though still amused.  
She nodded pridefully, puffing out her chest slightly.  
"_As immature as they get! And anyway, you walked right into it. Not my fault._"  
They both laughed again, and he shook his head before he leaned it back to rest against the wall behind him. For a moment he stayed like that, until again he picked up his head and shrugged. "Alright, fine." he paused and looked over at her, the ghost of a smile still haunting the corners of his mouth. "But you should change.. Unless of course bloody, ripped clothes are your thing."  
She met eyes with him, though she looked slightly uncomfortable. Memories of the night before flashed in her head, and quickly she looked away again- swallowing hard.  
"_No, it's not my thing.. Will you drive me home? I'm pretty sure I'd scare the hell out of some poor cab driver,_" Her eyes drifted back over to him- and right away she looked at the cane and a tense feeling went around the room.  
"_I mean.._"  
Johnny looked down, pursing his lips briefly before he looked back over at her and smiled slightly. There was no humor in this. No light side to the dark. No good thoughts to subside with the bad ones. Not with the thoughts of Sarah, still fresh in his mind from earlier. "I'm sure my father can take you home. I'll go ask him,"  
He moved aside her legs to stand, and hadn't taken a step before she lashed out and caught the leg of his pants.  
"_Johnny,_"  
He turned to her, eyes dull. She stared up at him, before looking at where she gripped the leg of his jeans and letting go before smoothing them out again. "_I'm sorry._" Her blue pools drifted back up to his, and he smiled reassuringly at her before he looked away again a bit nervously. There was a long pause before he answered her.  
"It's okay." His voice had lowered to a whisper, but he smiled again at her before he made his way back to the kitchen where his father still sat.

Herb did drive her back to her home, and left her there with a kind smile. She showered herself, and without a second thought she threw every piece of clothing she had worn the last night in the trashcan. She had no intention of trying to sew anything back together, for now it was all haunted with bad memories. She sat down on her own couch, her legs curled up, holding a cup of hot tea between her hands. In fact, she sat like that for a while. Minutes passed as she stared at the wall before her in the silence, sipping occasionally at her cup.  
She had curled her hair, and each lock ended with a perfectly swirled curl. Her skin, minus the bruises again glowed in the way that it naturally did when she didn't feel dead. She dressed in a pair of black jeans and a fluffy white sweater, that hung at the neck to expose a bit of her collarbone and chest. Being self-conscience about the bruises and cuts were far from her mind. With a gentle sigh, she peered down into her cup as she contemplated going back to Johnny's house. The warm, golden-colored liquid that reflected her face smelled wonderfully of spices from another place.  
Dawn Edwards contemplated there for another hour or so, enjoying the quiet, but not being alone. A strange feeling began to warm her flesh slightly, as she remembered how she felt last night when Johnny laid down with her, and wrapped his arm around her. The warmth of another human being next to you in the night was like no other - especially if it was his warmth. It was true, his appearance had changed during the five years - he always looked so tired now, and his hair which was once so tame seemed to be uncontrollable. He didn't wear his glasses anymore but to read, and he dressed darker. But that feeling she got when she was near him never went away; and in that way, he had never changed. He could still make her smile, and his smile hadn't changed. His eyes still glittered the same way in a genuine smile, and the corner of his eyes still wrinkled up with happiness. No matter how many years had passed, he still always had that smile about him.  
He still had that kindness about him. He always did. A sigh escaped her lips, and she ended up staring down at her feet.  
She hadn't ever seen him cry, until his mother died. She hadn't ever seen a man cry in such a way, nor had she ever have a man lean onto her, or hold him in such a way. She hadn't ever felt this way about another man before. In that aspect, it was all new. But she had always loved Johnny - just not this way before. A part of her was wise to think he had no such feelings about her, but another part wanted to think he did, so much that it hurt.  
Part of her wondered if she could even handle it if he did.  
Her mind drifted to before she left - to when he grabbed her and convulsed the way he did. The way that cold, distant, cloudy look came over his eyes to turn his face rock hard. No emotion, only concentration. He had grown ice cold in the matter of moments, and his muscles tensed as he stared into her soul with those wide, frightened eyes. What had he seen? What terrible thing would cause him to act this way?  
Oh, she knew about his power. But to be friends with Johnny Smith for so long, how couldn't she have known? But she had never seen it happen before. Not until yesterday. And to keep honest with herself, she gave in to the knowing that it frightened her. It made her uneasy. She caught a shiver just thinking about it, and quickly she tried to think about something else - though the thoughts seemed to claim her entirely. What a terrible thing it was, to have such fear.. But somehow she couldn't merely move it to the back of her head and move on.  
There was something that was just all too unnerving about Johnny Smith. Too unnerving to merely push aside, however.

Eventually she finished her tea, but by that time it had already gone cold anyway. She drank it down nevertheless before she would walk off to her bedroom and toss a bag down onto her bed. A few pairs of clothes, and the necessary toiletries. She carried a separate pair of shoes by hand, though three other pairs had been tossed into the bag to join the rest of her clothing. (A pair of high heels, a pair of moccasins, and boots. It was far too cold for sandals)  
Dawn Edwards got into her car and drove back to Johnny Smith's house. She left the bag and shoes in the car, but walked up and knocked on the door still, only to meet John in the doorway - who was dressed differently now, and his hair gave away that he had showered not too long ago. It was drying, but still slightly wet.  
She didn't say anything to him, and for a moment the two just stared at each other before she shrugged pathetically heavily, and he stepped aside to let her in. As soon as the door was closed, she wrapped her arms around him - though instead of over his sweater, which was unbuttoned, she slid her arms inside it and hugged around his torso, which was covered by a white button-up shirt. His common attire. With the girl hung onto him, and her face buried into his chest, he sighed and wrapped an arm around her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head.  
Something about it felt entirely wrong.. It was against his mental code of conduct, it was against all his senses which were screaming at him not to draw near.  
_I know what you want to do, _his conscience screamed._ I know you want to get close with this girl, you know it to. You know how easy it is, especially now when there's no one else, to fall._  
_But you can't! Not with Sarah. What if she comes back to you? What if her marriage falls through, and she realizes that she really does belong with you? Don't break this girl's heart. You know you'll just as easily meet Sarah half way if she decides to make the path. Don't do it! Let go._  
His eyes had opened by then, and he was staring at the floor before he pulled away gently. He played it off well, tucking his hand away into the pocket of his jeans, keeping the other one held firmly onto his cane and sniffling gently with the cold.  
"You came back.. Didn't think you would."  
"_Why wouldn't I come back?_"  
Suddenly, he wasn't too sure himself. He looked down at his feet and smiled slightly, shrugging before he pulled his eyes back to her. "I dunno."  
She smiled at him, genuinely before she walked away, peeking in the kitchen. "_Where's your father?_"  
"He- he went out, won't be back till later. Charlene Mackenzie wanted something or another.. Why?"  
She giggled quietly from the doorway, before she moved to sit down on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. "_She always does._" her voice was quiet, and she paused until she realized that he had asked her a question - quickly she looked at him. "_Oh, no reason. I suppose it just seemed a little quiet, and I didn't notice his truck was gone._"  
There was another silence as they stared at each other, but eventually he wandered over to sit next to her on the couch, letting out a breath at the effort it took before he looked over at her again. His eyes caught the bruise above her eyebrow, and with a slow, gentle motion he reached over and brushed the knuckle of a finger against it, looking almost saddened. "Are you okay?" his voice was quiet, and he leaned back though keeping his piercing blue eyes on her, worried.  
She merely nodded, "_Yeah, I'm fine.. Few bruises ain't nuthin'. I've been hurt worse before, as I'm sure many people have._"  
"He didn't.. Well," Johnny looked away again, uneasily. "He didn't _**hurt **_you, I know that." His eyes shifted to his feet, but her eyes kept on him. Luckily, she wasn't daft enough not to know what he was talking about. She looked away as well, also a bit uneasy. "_No, thankfully he didn't. How do you know that? Or did I.. tell you?_"  
He almost laughed at this, "No no. I saw everything that happened when I caught you... I just, well, I wanted to make sure that my visions weren't unclear.." He knew they weren't.. But to hear her say it, he knew he would feel much better.  
She looked at him, "_No, Johnny, they weren't unclear. You're right. If one fortunate thing.._" She trailed off, obviously disturbed by the subject. Because of this, he didn't talk about it anymore. They stayed silent, and watched the television until she spoke very quietly again.  
"_I didn't see it happening, Johnny.. Couldn't have seen it for a hundred miles, I've known that man for a long time now. Well, I thought I knew him. He's never stepped out of place around a lady. I don't know if it was the whiskey he drank, or what.. But I didn't see it coming, and I won't ever see him again, that's for sure. But was that- what you saw? Before I left?_"  
She glanced over at him, curious. All at once, he was caught blind-sided and stumbled at his words at first. His conscience hissed at him, _Lie_. and he obeyed.  
"Well, I.. Um." He looked down, ashamed, though it wasn't part of the act. Lie? Why lie? "Yes. That's why I tried to stop you, but I was still surprised by it. I didn't see you coming to me, or coming here. I saw trouble, but that's all."  
Dawn swallowed hard, but since that was the last thing she wanted to discuss on the subject she let it at that. She caught herself staring at his hand, and she looked away nervously, swallowing hard. (She had always thought his hands were some kind of perfection.) She added them to her mental checklist of things about John Smith that hadn't changed.  
For one, his outrageous name - one thing that also has not changed, and of course would never for that matter. She found it easier even to add the most simple things, that way her list was longer and more assuring.

It was a cautious, careful motion. Slowly, she reached forward to pull his hand away from where it had been resting on his thigh, and into both of her own. His hands were paws compared to her's, but they were soft and cool, rather than cold and clammy, or hot. This action made him jump slightly, and his first impulse was to pull away though he quickly and mentally instructed himself otherwise - to end up merely watching her curiously as she played tenderly with his fingers. She traced the lines in his palm, then ran her fingers up the back of his hand to feel each of the little masculine hairs there. Even beyond them, his hands were gentle and soft, and willing, as she moved it about and began to again play with his fingers. It was a curious thing to watch, and to feel even, as he watched her handle his paw with such delicacy.  
Though she didn't admit it aloud, it was always one of her wishes, dreams if you will, to cradle one of his hands so. She never thought of being able to in such a way- for this way, this moment she felt almost like he was her's. Briefly, she sized her hand against his, and the difference made her giggle to herself before she laced her fingers into the spaces between his and held tight. For a moment, he kept his fingers straight up and just watched until the ice seemed to melt, and slowly his own fingers drifted down to clasp her hand within his own. His eyes held to her's, though it took her a moment to look at him herself.  
The look in his eyes was somewhat odd. It was a look of sadness, pain even - but even through such a look, there was happiness that could be found. A contentment. A smile had formed on the corners of their mouth, in sync with each other before they both looked down and laughed quietly. She bit down on her bottom lip gently before she looked down at where their hands met; and she felt her cheeks beginning to warm exceedingly.  
A quick flash of flames slipped into his head, and it made him jump slightly, but it was inconspicuous; and she didn't notice. She was in her own world now. It wasn't long until she moved, though never leaving her hand from where it was held in his, and wrapped her free arm around his neck, to bury her face within the crook of his shoulder. His red sweater was soft under her cheek, and his neck was warm. It radiated gentle heat. He sighed quietly, though to his surprise it wasn't of anything other than contentment. Every breath she took, he felt it puff against his flesh- and at first it made him shiver gently before he grew accustomed.  
He ended up wrapping his arm around her again, though as it happened last night during his sleep, he did it unintentionally (to a certain extent). He held it around her back, and held onto her - though it ended up being both arms, as she broke their hands to wrap her own other arm around his neck and entangled a hand within his thick, soft brown mane. The moment quickly overtook him, and he closed his eyes before he pulled her atop his lap to hold her.  
They kept there, arms wrapped around each other- without a sound but the television humming gently in the background - for a long time, though time was lost in their world.

**III.**

The ringing of the house phone shot them out of it, and made them both flinch as they were jump started into reality. They both sighed, and he groaned displeasingly before his arms loosened around her. Dawn only tightened her's, as if to hang on to the moment for just a minute longer - but she nuzzled her nose against his neck and they pulled away from each other. One neither more nervous than the other. Neither could explain exactly what had brought on the sudden closeness between them. She pulled off of his body to curl up next to him, and they both stared into oblivion- not only confused, but dazed, until John forced himself to his feet and went to the phone who's demanding ring shattered his world. Whether it had been a shocking, odd world, it was still a contentment that he hadn't felt in so long.  
He hadn't felt it since Sarah.  
Dawn stayed still, curled up on the sofa and holding herself. For a few moments her heart beat rapidly, and then it fluctuated before coming back down from cloud 9 - and it beat regularly. She sighed as she longed for him, but she closed her eyes and went very quiet as she listened to him murmuring in the other room. The sound of his voice soothed her down. Kept her from crying, as she had begun to feel tears well pathetically in her eyes when he pulled away. She wasn't sure why- only that she longed desperately for his presence, because it comforted her so. It always had. She added that to her list of things that hadn't changed about Johnny Smith.

He came back a while later, and she forced herself back from attaching herself to him instantly as he sat back down next to her. Only looked up at him with curious blue pools,  
"_Who was it?_" Her voice cracked slightly, and she blushed briefly in embarrassment.  
Johnny smiled slightly at her, holding his cane against his thigh and wrinkling his brow quickly, "It was uh- It was Sam. Said he'll stop by quickly and drop of some pills for you, to help you get better. He just got into a whole little doctor rant, I guess. How are you? How is your walking? Things like that."  
He rolled his eyes and laughed quietly, though uneasily. He had been brought down to reality just as much as she had, it seemed, and had realized how random the action between them had been. It had made him a bit uneasy, though he wouldn't dare to admit that at the time it was.. Nice. He forced himself to stop at that.  
"_How long will it be until he's here?_"  
Johnny paused for a second, trying to think if Sam had even said. Eventually he gave up, "Couldn't say." he said quietly, before he leaned back and sunk into the couch to stare out curiously at the television. A new victim of the Castle Rock Killer.  
His head started to ache.. Terribly, it started to ache. Soon enough, he brought his fingers up to gently touch against his brow with a quiet groan and closed his eyes. Then he pushed his palm up against it to wait it out - and Dawn looked over at him sympathetically, to begin rubbing up and down his arm gently. Though she didn't speak, in fact she kept very quiet though it didn't matter. Whenever the headaches came, if he tried to speak she would quiet him and wait it out with him in silence. Whether he would admit it or not, it did help increasingly when everything was hushed. Slowly the pain died away, and he sighed quietly before he looked over at her and smiled slightly. "Thank you," He looked over at where she was rubbing at his arm, and he leaned into it softly before she pulled away and nodded.  
"_Those headaches are terrible.. I wonder what causes them._" She thought aloud, looking at him nevertheless only to gain a shrug.  
"I don't know. Luckily, they aren't getting worse."  
"_They aren't getting better either, Johnny. You should talk to Sam about them when he comes._"  
John shook his head, "He'll just give me more pills.. If I get one more pill bottle, I think the medicine cabinet will explode- and I'll be considered a druggy."  
They both laughed quietly, before she shifted over and rest her head against his shoulder, looking at the man behind the television screen. With his perfect, combed hair and flawless skin. Only people on the TV ever looked like that. And it was done with a s**t-ton of make up, and years of experience.  
_"It's ridiculous how perfect people look in a newsroom. Look at Don Bolles, I mean did you ever notice that?_" She trailed off, eyes narrowed in concentration.  
Johnny just laughed, "I think.. That you're just odd."  
He looked over at her, quirking an eyebrow upward. She looked at him, mouth agape though a smile still shone in her eyes. "_Why you.._"  
"What? Who really looks at things like that! Aren't the stories enough to keep you listening? That's odd, Dawn, just odd. I mean, sure I've noticed it but I'm not doing this about it," He mocked her, narrowing his eyes at the TV and scoffing outrageously.  
She began to pummel him, but they both laughed as he cowered away from her.  
"_I do not look like that, you a*s!_"  
She began to hit at his chest, but he only laughed before she gave up and just laughed along with him, into his arm.  
The doorbell rang later on that evening, and Sam dropped off her bottles of medication. Three bottles, to be exact. One with pain killers, one with pills to help her sleep at night (ambien), and another to "Help speed up the healing process", but it was just another pain killer. After Sam talked to Johnny for a while, he left. It was about fifteen minutes afterwards when Herb came home, and in the brief fifteen minutes she almost kissed him - but she didn't. Herb came home, and they ate a quick dinner but by that time it was about ten at night. She and Johnny cooked up fish and rice with red peppers, and this surprised Herb, only because he insisted that Johnny's "cuisine" was based solely on cheap spaghetti sauces. They all laughed before they started to eat, chattering quietly to one another about little things.

That was the November of 1978.


	4. Volumne Three

Volume 3.

I.

It was in late December when George Bannerman drove up the driveway, next to his Deputy Frank Dodd.  
"This is a waste of time, Sheriff." Frank insisted, as they parked and both stared at the little farm house before them. George's blue eyes scanned the area before he shrugged,  
"It's worth a try, Frank.. Worth a try."  
Boot steps sounded on the wooden porch, pulling Herb out of his daze on trying to decorate the tree. He quickly looked out of the window, before he answered the door.  
"Mr. Smith?" the policeman's voice filled his ears, though he was growing hard of hearing over the past few years.  
"Yes, I'm Herb Smith."  
The Sheriff held out his hand, which Herb replied to with a firm shake. "George Bannerman, Castle Rock. May I come in?"  
"Sure, sure." Herb moved aside, watching the man curiously.  
"Little nippy out there." Bannerman said quietly, though it was a bit under his breath. Conversation with people as a cop was always awkward. "That's a nice tree you got there,"  
"Thanks" Herb said quickly, as if wanting to get right to it. "Can I do something for you, Sheriff?"  
Johnny heard the strange voice from the kitchen, though just as he heard it Dawn moved to look, craning her neck to try and see whom had entreated entrance. She sighed in annoyance, "_I can't see.._"  
Johnny held a hand on her arm when she started for the doorway, and he whispered quietly to her. The word Sheriff rang in his mind, and suddenly he felt extremely uneasy "Stop, I'll be right back. Stay here,"  
He hobbled ahead of her, leaning in the doorway and staring out at where Herb and the policeman stood. George looked at him almost instantly, "Well um, actually is this is your son I came to see him. You're John?"  
John nodded, only to have George's hand held out to him, "George Bannerman,"  
Herb chimed in after him, "Castle Rock,"  
Johnny narrowed his eyes at his father, before he looked back at the man before him whom looked about just as uneasy as he felt.  
"Well John, I guess I've come with a.. Proposal, you could say. It has to do with the murders that have been happening in Castle Rock, the Castle Rock Killer. I'm sure you've heard..?"  
Johnny nodded, "Sure." get on with it, Sheriff, I haven't got all night.  
Bannerman reached up and scratched his head nervously, looking away. "Well, I don't know if it's true or not.. John.. About these um, psychic powers."  
Johnny looked at him before he scoffed in disgust, rolling his eyes before he moved away from him to stand by the fire- staring into the dancing flames.  
"If it is true, John, I could use your help."  
Johnny kept silent, only out of the annoyance he felt.  
_Who was this big jerk, coming into my household and asking this.. This bullshit? What could I even do for-_  
"John maybe you should give him a-" Herb said, but Johnny glared over at him, and the look was enough to hush him before Johnny stared back into the glowing embers- under the flames that danced about each other. Bannerman began on a rant, but John didn't listen.  
_What does he want me to do? Stand around like a schmuck, and think of the guy's name out of nothing? He probably doesn't even have any evidence. Nothing was ever said about any evidence - how am I supposed to find this guy when I have no way of knowing.. If I don't get it right, he'll just talk to the papers about how much of a "damn fake" I am, and the mail will start again. The press will start again, and they'll get pictures of me when I'm with him. I can see it now,_  
_**LOCAL CASTLE ROCK SHERIFF HIRES PSYCHIC JOHN SMITH TO INVESTIGATE IN CASTLE ROCK KILLER.**_  
_No. This is no good._  
John looked over at the man, eyes narrowed still. "You've made a mistake."  
Bannerman didn't enjoy hearing a no from this man. Not when he could be so helpful, "Alright." He wandered over to the cards, scanning them briefly. "I'm sorry about your mother's death, John, Mr Smith. I heard she was a good woman.. Very religious."  
He looked at the two men, almost smirking. Johnny narrowed his eyes at him and just watched, almost in disbelief at how pathetic he looked.  
"I'm not a religious man myself, I'm sorry to say." His cold blue eyes were on Johnny now, "But I will say this - if God has seem fit, to bless you with this gift, John, you should use it."

Johnny merely stared at him, mouth agape and eyes narrowed in disgusted glare. "..Bless me? You know what God did for me? He threw an eighteen-wheel truck at me! Bounced me into no where, for five years!"  
He was raising his voice now, and his eyes had narrowed in a deathly glare that burned like fire into the soul of the man it rested on. It made George Bannerman more uneasy on the inside than he could have explained in words- something about that glare, how Johnny Smith's blue eyes seemed to grow so cold and dark in such a short period of time. His eyes were hard, and his lips almost snarled.  
"When I woke up my, my, my girl was gone my - job was gone, my legs are just about useless.. Bless me?"  
Dawn appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, watching Johnny with wide eyes. Her eyes held fear, and concern, and sympathy. While Bannerman grew uneasier and uneasier with Johnny's cold eyes, she saw him vulnerable.  
"God's been a real sport to me," Johnny nodded, only to glare dead at Bannerman again for a moment afterwards before he glanced over at Dawn and turned away. His eyes hadn't softened as they usually did when he looked at her - his mind had blurred, and gone fuzzy with the rage he had felt explode out of him. Suddenly everyone in the room was his enemy. He stood in front of the TV, but he wasn't watching it. Only staring down at it in silence. Dawn whispered a shocked little oh Johnny under her breath, but he didn't hear her. He only heard as Bannerman left - but he didn't look at him rather than sulked in front of the television, broiling with his own annoyance.  
_My girl is gone. She married another man, she made love to him and had a son. That should be my son. I should be her husband, she should be with me. I should still be a teacher. I hobble instead of walk - I can never drive a car, or ride a horse away with my beautiful bride after our perfect wedding. I'll never have a wedding. My mother's dead, and it was all because of me. This s**t-brain of a cop comes in here and tells me I'm blessed._  
John scoffed, shaking his head at the voices inside his mind. _Bless me. Yeah, I'm blessed. Blessed with a curse and a cane._  
His mother's voice whispered in his head, and it echoed in a spirit-like manner - such a manner that it left him with a shiver.  
_God has a plan for you, my son. Don't hide away in a cave, he knows what he's doing Johnny. Don't hide from God, his plan for you is big. _  
A hand was on his shoulder, a tender hand, but he shrugged it off and whipped around to face his opponent as if ready to fight, only to find a wide-eyed Dawn standing before him. Concern was clear in her pools, but they didn't speak. He pushed past her and into the kitchen to take pills, the ones that calmed him down. As much as he hated pills, these were by far his favorites. If he took enough of them, he'd be high as a kite for about a week straight.  
Herb wandered into the kitchen without Dawn, he had insisted that she stay back until John calmed. She did so without argument, though her eyes never left the doorway. By then, her bruises and cuts were gone, though she had a few scars. She practically lived with Johnny and Herbert, though it made Herb uneasy that his son and the girl had gotten so close, he kept to himself about it.  
He looked at his son, looked at how his face had grown so thin and tired. He remembered when he wished that his boy died.  
It was only when the mention of his mother had come in, somewhere in his father's little speech that Johnny started to listen to him, and he looked over at his father with wide blue eyes.  
"I wish to God she was here now, so she could talk to you about this thing.. I'm, not much help to you am I?"  
John's eyes finally softened, and he was brought down to Earth. He walked over to his father and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him to him gently.  
"Sure you are, daddy."  
Herb sighed quietly, before he looked back up at John who had released him now, "You wanna talk about it?"  
John smiled, though only slightly to try and lighten the mood. "Not that much to say.." He trailed off, but Herb caught up with him.  
"It sure don't bring you much happiness, does it son?"  
"When it happens.. When the spells come, it feels like -" He trailed off again, and swallowed. "I dunno, it feels like.. I'm dying. Inside." John looked at his father briefly, before he turned around and moved to the window, where it was cool, and he could look outside.  
"No snow," He mumbled, under his breath while loud enough for Herb to hear him. "It should snow for Christmas." he declared, nodding of to his words before looking down at his cane. He left Herb at that, and moved out to the living room where he saw Dawn curled up on the couch - he sat next to her, almost guiltily. She smiled at him slightly, putting a hand on his arm and looking up at him nervously.  
"_Are you um.. Are you okay, Johnny?_"  
Her voice was quiet, gentle. He looked down at her hand, only to grab hold of it and cradle it within his own gently with a nod.  
"I'm okay."  
She nodded and smiled slightly, looking down at their hands before she squeezed gently and pulled his over to hold in in her lap. His hand was warm against her's, and it held onto her firmly. "_I'm sorry._" She whispered, so quiet that it sounded like a breath.  
At first, he was confused by this. Then he understood.  
"It's not your fault,"  
"_I know.. I know that, but I'm sorry._"  
That was the first time Johnny Smith felt completely and truly attached to Dawn Edwards.

**II.**

It wasn't very many days later that Sarah Hazlett showed up on Johnny's doorstep with her baby boy. Herb was out, and Dawn was working.  
They played with the baby for a while before he fell asleep, and they had each other to make up for all the years that have prevented them from being together. It didn't happen only once, but several times. When they were done, Sarah asked if they had made up for the time, Johnny had replied in saying "We did the best that we could, Sarah.", Then they kissed passionately before settling with just holding one another.  
The night was their's. That night, Sarah was his wife, Denny was his son, and they were a family. There was no Walt between them, separating them.  
He didn't think about Dawn. How could he? Not with his beloved here, not when she was finally his, if not for a few hours.  
Then she left. He watched her leave, snow falling down into where his shirt was unbuttoned to melt against his warm chest. Tears welled pathetically in his eyes, but none spilled out beyond his control. Sarah was gone. Gone again - taken from him. Reality once again slapped him in the face, but instead of his cheek it was his heart that stung. He whispered a goodbye, unheard by another soul as he watched the headlights of her maroon automobile pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road.  
"Goodbye, Sarah."  
Dawn returned later that night, and by the look in his eyes she knew just about everything. By the toys on the floor, and by the mention of Sarah's name from Herb. Johnny only looked at her, and he would have said something.. An apology, perhaps, but she merely had to nod her head to show her understanding. She wasn't angry with him, nor hurt. She curled up on the couch next to him just as usual, and watched the news with him until the news of another victim that had been taken by the Castle Rock Killer was reported.  
That's when the headache came. It was worse than any of the other's; it pounded and pounded in his head as he stared at Bannerman on the screen, guilt oozing into his system to claim and control it.  
Still the headache raged on, even had he pressed his hand against it. Dawn touched his arm gently, concern flowing by the tenderness of her hand. He didn't move away nor lean into it, only stared at the television until suddenly the headache disappeared. A conclusion was made in his head, what did he have to live for anyway? What could possibly happen? Nothing. Gotta help him - catch the killer.  
Johnny whispered, breathed the words aloud. "I'm gonna help him."  
Herb looked over at Johnny, and even Dawn, whom was sitting right next to him, leaned closer to him and made a gentle _hmm?_ noise. Though Herb was the one who spoke,  
"What did you say, son?"  
Johnny looked around, quickly before looking back blankly at the television.  
_My girl's gone. _  
"That Sheriff, that came here... Bannerman.. I'm gonna help him."  
Dawn's hand was on his arm again, and it traced up and down against his shoulder as she rubbed him reassuringly. Her voice whispered to him, "_You're doing the right thing, Johnny._"  
His gaze shifted over to her, and he paused before he nodded, "I know," wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close with a gentle smile, and another brief nod as he stared back at the television. "I know." he repeated.  
His conscience whispered, quietly and tenderly to him.  
The girl's gone.  
Then his mother's voice replaced it, echoing in his mind. _Don't hide away from God, Johnny. Don't cower in a cave from him. _

**III.**

Dawn stood before him in front of the door, buttoning up his coat for him gently before she stared up at him, smiling. It was getting dark now, the sun was going down. Bannerman's police car awaited him in the drive way - the exhaust puffing from the pipe in a steady stream of fog from the cold. It was a cold night, and he had gotten a nervous stir in his stomach only minutes ago. Slowly, the girl ran a hand up and down his chest, which was covered under the soft yet wooly black pea coat and the sweaters layered under it. His neck was covered by the collar, which he had pulled up almost defensively. The collar looked akin to the drawn wings of a raven.  
She smiled slightly before looking at him. Suddenly, she got the impression that this wasn't a good idea - police work was dangerous.  
_No.. Johnny can do this. He can end this._  
"_Be careful, Johnny._" She said quietly, smiling up at him before she stood up on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek tenderly. Her mind whispered, but she refrained from speaking. _I love you._  
He smiled, reassuringly not only for her, but for himself. He nodded, before he pulled away from her hands and closed the front door behind him.

**IV.**

Johnny Smith followed close to Bannerman, his feet sinking into the cold, sloshed snow within the dark tunnel. He gasped quietly, inconspicuously as he cane slipped and he almost fell to his knees. Luckily, the two officers didn't notice.  
"He hid around the corner, just out the end of the tunnel. There,"  
Bannerman motioned his flashlight to the place he mentioned.  
"When the poor girl came through, the b*****d was waiting for her.. I tell the kids not to come through but d****t uh- they like to use this, you know, for a shortcut to school."  
They walked in front of the wall, the wall that kid the Killer. Johnny looked around, fear still creeping up and down the back of his neck.  
"He stood right here, we found a few cigarette butts same brand- 8 or nine, you know. Dose this help you any?"  
Johnny sighed, "I dunno.. Have you got something he might have um, touched? Or worn?"  
Bannerman looked at Dodd, motioning to him, "Hey Frank, gimmie that package."  
The little plastic bag was passed between the two men, and Bannerman opened it up revealing it's contents. An empty pack of cigarettes, and several smoked butts. Johnny grimaced slightly, and almost gagged. Slowly he removed one of his black leather gloves before looking around,  
"It's the only real evidence we have.. Found it in a bush, same brand as the butts we found on the ground. Here,"  
The empty pack was pushed into John's hand, and slowly his fingers curled around it until his knuckles were white.  
Slowly, his eyes began to grow hard. A feeling came, a feeling that made him edgy - a haze-like feeling. Slowly Johnny turned around, looked around.  
_I'm so slick.. They can't get away, those nasty-fuckers. I-_  
The feeling blew past him, gone now. Gone just like that. He looked around, left with nothing. Nothing but the empty cigarette pack still crumpled in his fist. Johnny sniffed gently, the breaths coming from his mouth flowing out in small, little cold clouds of fog.  
He looked at Bannerman, feeling like a fool.  
"Nothing... I thought I, I might have felt something but-"  
"It's okay, can't say we didn't try right?"  
Johnny shrugged, handing over the pack to the Deputy, feeling defeated. While all the while feeling somehow relieved.. He could go home now.  
Bannerman's radio interrupted his thoughts, "_Dispatcher, Sheriff Bannerman._"  
George picked up his radio, holding to his mouth. "Yeah? This is Bannerman."  
The voice replied, "_We got another body here, Sheriff._"  
The man's face grew grim, and slowly he lowered his radio. "Oh- D****t.." he grumbled, disgust easy in his voice.

**V.**

Dawn sat, huddled up in one of John's blankets on the couch. A cup of coffee was held between her two hands, as she watched the television with wide eyes as the report went through. Another body was found - The Castle Rock Killer has struck again. Her eyes scanned the screen, and slowly she pulled her feet closer to her, huddling closer into herself with uneasiness. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, with the chill that was sent through her bones.  
_Oh Johnny.._

**VI.**

Johnny lead forward, into the massive crowd of camera's and shouting voices.  
_What's the word, George? What's the word on the Castle Rock Killer?__  
__Hey Sheriff? Sheriff?__  
_Johnny kept walking, facing forward - Don't look back. Don't look around. Keep moving.  
_Hey, isn't that John Smith?__  
__That's psychic, that's Smith isn't it?__  
_Other police had formed now, and they were mushing the people away_. __  
__Give us a break!__  
__We're trying to do our job, here.__  
__Would you stand back please? Give us a chance. __  
__Give us a break, would ya?_

Johnny's boots echoed on the wood of the gazebo steps, crunched against the snow. His eyes rested on the red blanket, which still gave the form of the girl's body who lie beneath it. George followed him, and after him, Frank Dodd. All three of which were grim, but John was the most uneasy.  
George sighed, "Anyone know who she is? Dodd?"  
Frank moved over to the blanket, before he pulled down the blanket slowly to uncover the girl's face. Her skin was blue, and she was in a peaceful position - as if she were in a slumber. Johnny felt a shiver run up and down his spine.  
Dodd looked her over, "Yeah, I know this girl.." He looked at George, calmly. "Name's Alma Frechette, she works at the uh- Coffee Pot Cafe across the way there."  
George nodded, and slowly a man from the press cautiously walked up behind them, "You're idea, George, to have a psychic solve the case?"  
The Sheriff motioned towards the people, "Dodd, get these people out of here."  
Dodd obeyed, walking over to crowd them away with his arms, backing them away while the Sheriff yelled at them - going off on a rant,  
"Move em' back! Get the people back! No! No cameras! No more cameras! No more! Dodd,"  
"Yeah?"  
"Nobody comes up here."  
"You got it, Sheriff." Dodd faced away from the two men, staring out into the crowd with his hat covering his face. _A guard dog,_ he thought, _I'm a damn guard dog._  
Bannerman looked over at Johnny, motioning towards the dead girl. "You wanna.. Try it?"  
John looked at him, at first not really registering. _He wants me to.. To what? Touch her? Touch a dead body? He wants-_  
He swallowed it back, pulling off his glove again before going over to kneel before the girl. Slowly, he pulled away her glove and wrapped his hand around her's. It was cold - at first he recoiled, then he shook his head and held tightly. All at once he began to flinch, and convulse. Visions came now.. Visions..

_The killer waited. Waited on the bandstand, his collar pulled to cover his face. He narrowed his eyes, pulling a cigarette out from his mouth and tossing it off the side, he watched as Alma walked nearer and nearer.._  
_That nasty-f****r, he thought. Alma was one of them. One of those nasty-fuckers. He would do away with her, he would teacher her a lesson._  
_"__Hey, Alma! Hi.__"_  
_She looked over, almost startled before she eased up. "Hi, what are you doing up there?"_  
_"__Well, I'm waiting for you! How about a smile?__"_  
Johnny mumbled, "She knows him.."  
Bannerman stared at him, "What?"  
John's eyes drifted, into oblivion. There was something about him, something that sent a chill down George Bannerman's spine. They were cold, hard - his blue irises had grown dark, almost violet. "She knows him."

_Alma looked up at him, innocently. "Why should I waste a smile on you?"_  
_The killer sneered, eyes narrowing. He chuckled, "__Hey, you wanna see something? It's the god-damnedest thing.__"_  
_"What?"_  
_"__Come on up here, in the gazebo!__" He beckoned, slyly with a smile on his face. _  
Johnny watched, eyes wide. "She knows him," He stood now, backing away from the girl. "Not scared, she knows him."

_I'll teach her a lesson. I'll show her just how slick I am. _  
_"Alright.." She was near him now, looking around curiously. _  
_She was next to him, "Well? What did you wanna show me?" she was trying to catch his eyes, but her own were far too curious. He sniffled, smirking to himself. "__Ga-zee-bo. You like that word, Alma?__" He held out his arm, and she came into it. "__Come here..__"_  
_He pulled back his coat, exposing the barber scissors that gleamed in the light. Glittered they did - so beautiful. She began to pull away, he didn't like it when they struggled. No, only when they acted like a good little girl. None of them ever acted like a good little girl._  
_Rage began to rise in him, like a flame. He grabbed her, as she tried to pull away, he grabbed her. She mumbled something, but his fist met with her cheek and he felt something crack and she fainted. He smirked. That's what you get for being bad, for struggling and making a fuss. He threw her down into the snow before he climbed atop her, ripping free her shirt and bra. The sound of clothing ripping free from her flesh echoed in his mind._  
_His thing was standing up. "__You nasty-f****r, this is what happens. This is what happens,__"_  
_He grunted, pulling up her little waitress dress and ripping away her panties with a loud tearing sound. It was so easy. Quickly he looked around, and just as quickly, he drew his barber scissors. _  
Johnny watched in horror, "No no, wait!"  
_Too late. He plunged them into her chest and blood sprayed forward, against his coat. He snarled, "__You b***h! Bled all over my coat, look at this!__" His hands were around her throat now, and he was squeezing. Squeezing, squeezing until he felt it. Her neck, shattered. The bone snapped like a twig under his powerful hands. He had never felt so powerful._  
_They always struggled, they scratched and they whined, but they scratched and they failed. Because he was slick, too slick for them. Quickly he filled her with himself, gigantic and throbbing for her. She still warm.. So warm. The killer sneered, under a gentle moan. "__This is what happens,__" _  
_Forcefully, he raped her lifeless body while he grabbed at her hair, and ripped it from her scalp. Once or twice, he grabbed her head and would slam it against the wood of the gazebo, splattering blood among the white of the snow. When he was finished, blood and semen ran down her legs, but he covered and soaked it away with snow. They'd never catch him. He was too slick._  
Johnny was thrown out of the vision, with his attempt to stop Frank Dodd and lunged himself forward to try and stop him. He was powerless, his legs crumpled beneath him and he was falling into the snow. George Bannerman grabbed his arm, "You okay?" pulling him back up as Johnny shot upward again, eyes wide and disturbed.  
"I saw him, I was there I saw him.. I stood there, I saw his face." He looked at George, eyes wide like a doe in front of headlights. They weren't cold anymore, just frightened.  
George was confused, his head spun, "Wait, who? _**Who**_?"  
Johnny went on, on a rant. "I did nothing.. I stood there, I saw his face. Dodd." He pulled away from Bannerman,  
"Wait a minute.. What are you saying?" The wild man was backing up against the gazebo wall now, panic glowing in his eyes.  
George just stared, eyebrows narrowed in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?" He stood up, just stared. But John continued on, frightened.  
"I stood there and watched him, kill that girl.. Dodd. I did nothing.. I saw his face."  
George kept his eyes on John, though he called out for Dodd. No answer.  
"Dodd, get up here." Another officer walked up to the stairs, eyes just as confused as George's. "He just uh, took off in your car, Sheriff."  
John quirked an eyebrow upward, looking at George who was still in a state of disbelief. Not Frank Dodd.. "I saw his face," said Johnny, insisting. "I saw his face."

**VII.**

They were in another car, a police car. Johnny settled in the passenger side, staring ahead of him with wide, concentrated eyes. He knew he was right. The ride was silent, and quick as they pulled up to Dodd's house. When they got out, Bannerman pointed a stern finger at Johnny as if scolding a child. "I want you to stay there." but Johnny obeyed, keeping his mouth shut. It wasn't his particular intention to get involved this way anyway - he looked up, and the man was in the window. The killer. Johnny's heart fluctuated, the Sheriff didn't see him. Quick enough, Dodd disappeared into a room unknown and Johnny went hobbling after Bannerman, "Sheriff,"  
A knock against the glass of the door; Bannerman looked at John. "I thought I told you to stay by the car," Johnny's eyes flickered to the window when a woman's face appeared there.  
"_What do you want?_" she demanded, her eyes narrow and green. She looked like a dragon - like a monster. Johnny stared at her with wide, nervous eyes.  
"Sheriff Bannerman, I need to talk to your son, Mrs. Dodd." She opened the door a crack,  
".._He ain't here._" Bannerman glanced at Dodd's car before he smirked,  
"Well, his patrol car's out here."  
"_Well his.. car is here, but he ain't._"  
Johnny interrupted, "He's here. I saw him, in the window."  
Mrs. Dodd almost snarled, "_I'm telling you, he ain't home!_"  
Bannerman sighed, "I'm coming in Mrs. Dodd,"  
She protested loudly, but the Sheriff barged past her and made his way up the stairs powerfully as she tried to grab onto him, but slipped. Johnny followed, but she grabbed his coat and held strong as she glared at him with her dark, angry eyes. "_You leave my boy alone!_"  
John grabbed her hand,  
_She knew. She knew what her boy did, that he killed those nasty-fuckers. And she was proud of him for it, get rid of them before they rot the Earth with their disgusting ways! She would protect her boy, help him rid the Earth of the nuisance. _  
"You knew.. Didn't you? ..You knew!" Johnny said, eyes wide.  
Suddenly she was afraid, and a breath whooshed out of her chest in shock. "_You.._" She muttered, gasping. "_You're the devil.. Sent from hell!_"  
Johnny grimaced slightly, before he released his grip on her to watching her stumbling backwards in horror, and followed after the Sheriff. Up the stairs, carefully up the stairs he climbed. George came from a doorway and frightened him, but only briefly until the two men entered Dodd's room. The sight was frightening in itself.  
_What kind of man is this?_ Johnny thought, eyes wide and disturbed. The wallpaper consisted of cowboys and Indians - there were flashcards with the alphabet, toys, things of a child in the room of a grown man. This all rubbed him the complete wrong way, and a chill ran up his spine as he looked around with curious, narrowed eyes at the piles of board games the children's books, the toys. The plastic guns, the fake snakes, scattered across the carpet. He even caught a glimpse of the head of a Barbie.  
Suddenly, a noise sounded from the bathroom - George and Johnny exchanged glances. The sound of struggle, and of rubber.. When the door was opened, Dodd lie in the bathtub wrapped in a rubber trench-coat. The barber scissors he used, to kill his victims were jammed up into the roof of his mouth, where they must have punctured his brain. Blood was splattered about him, in the sort of way you only saw in horror movies. The room reeked, of dirt that gathered around over the past god-knows-how-long - the smell of sickness, grime, and blood. Dodd's blood. Around him, a sign.  
I'M GUILTY.  
Bannerman stared, eyes wide in shock. His stomach stirred, it rolled and rolled and he broke a cold sweat - he swore he was going to be sick. Dodd's eyes were rolled up in his head, and his mouth hung open as he twitched once, twice.  
Johnny made an exit, for his own stomach had begun to churn. The stench of blood, it worked it's way up from his nose and into his mind. He stumbled out of the room backward, and as he started for the stairs footsteps sounded - he only had time to look up before the gunshot was fired, and he felt a sledgehammer thrown through his side. He let out a startled, pained grunt as he fell on his side, fortunately not fumbling the whole way down the staircase. Somewhere behind him, George fired, and she fired again twice before she was on the floor, staring at Johnny with wide, dead eyes, a hand stretched out towards him like she beckoned him towards death's black cloak. Johnny blacked out in the ambulance. He was going to the hospital again.


	5. Volumne Four

Volume 4.

I.

Sounds began to echo in his head, many many busy sounds.. Where was he? He opened his eyes, shut them quickly. It was bright. He moaned out quietly, throwing his arms up to shield his eyes, he was moving. Fast, he was moving. Down a hallway? Dying, perhaps. A hand grabbed his, held it tight. The sound of tears, the sound of machines. Who's tears? He peeked out from his arms. Dawn Edwards. She was holding his hand against her chest and weeping - calling his name, saying something. What? What was she saying? The light faded.. His name was screamed out, it must have been Dawn. Slowly, again it was black.  
It was hours later until Johnny woke again. His eyes opened, widened then retracted. It was bright still, but not quite so blurry. In fact, it wasn't blurry at all now. Sounds had died down, and he gave his head a shake while he looked around. He shifted, but a sharp pain in his side brought him to a halt and he groaned quietly. One of his hands didn't move, and slowly he looked over to see it was clasped within another.. He caught a glimpse of golden-blonde hair. Dawn was at his bedside, slumped over at his side in a chair, her hand holding tiredly onto his. Her back moving slowly up and down suggested to him that she was asleep. He looked around again, let out another discontented groan and looked at the heart monitor. He was in a hospital.  
Again his gaze shifted to Dawn, and he moved his arm a little to shake her, "Dawn.. Dawn.." He said quietly, trying to wake her. He was exhausted. Weak. "Dawn," She shifted, waking up quickly before she saw him and tightened her hand around his, pulling it close to her.  
"_Johnny,_" she smiled, though her eyes were still puffy and red. She _had_ been crying. He tightened his own grip on her's, though only as tight as he could. Her hand was warm in his, and it was then that he realized he was cold..  
"What hap-" He glanced around again, "What happened? Why am I here?" Quickly another thought haunted his mind, coma. His eyes became horrified. "How long have I been asleep?"  
Her answer relieved him, "_Only a few hours, Johnny.. It's okay._" He looked at her again, holding onto her hand.  
"What happened to me?"  
She looked at him, worried - for a moment, he though she was going to cry again. He brushed his thumb lightly against the back of her hand to reassure her. _Speak,_ he thought. _Please speak.._  
"_You.. She shot you, George said that you were shot, in the side._"  
_That explains the pain in my side._  
"Is it.. Bad?"  
She shook her head, "_No, not as bad as it could have been. It didn't hit anything important.. Does it hurt you? I can call the nurse.._"  
"No, no it's okay." he said quietly, reaching his other hand over to pull down the sheet, looking himself over. He was wrapped, all the way around his torso from where his chest stopped to where his hip began with a bandage. Luckily, no blood had run through it to stain the white cloth. Suddenly he was a little more relieved, and slowly he felt her thumb running back and forth against his palm as she looked at the bandage and grimaced.  
"_Oh Johnny.._"  
"It's okay," He pulled up the blankets again, after situating the blue paper gown. He looked at her and smiled reassuringly. "I've been hurt worse, huh?"  
She let out a quick little uncomfortable laugh, before bring his hand up to rest her cheek against it. "_I was so scared.. Scared that you'd._" She trailed off, and he licked his lips quickly before feeling uneasy.  
"Scared that I wouldn't wake up..?" She looked at him, eyes watering again before she sniffled and looked around, noticing the cup next to his bed.  
"_Are you thirsty?_"  
He looked over, swallowed. His throat hurt. He nodded, and she nodded too before slipping onto his bedside and sliding her hand under the back of his head. She touched him so gently, pulling him forward only slightly. The movement made him wince, and she gasped. "_I'm sorry! I'm sorry.. Easy,_" She moved the straw to his mouth, and slowly he drank - gratefully until she pulled it from him.  
"_Okay.. They said you shouldn't drink too much,_" She sat it back down, but stayed at his side for a moment while she lay his head back down. She sat back in her chair, still at his side as she took his hand again and held it between both of her own, thumb moving almost mechanically back and forth.. Back and forth. He looked at her, curiously though his eyes were tired.  
"What time is it?"  
She glanced at the clock, before shrugging. "_About two in the morning._"  
"Why didn't you go home and sleep? How long have you been here?"  
"_I was here when they brought you in. I didn't want to leave,_"  
"Why?" He looked at her now, and suddenly felt something begin to tug at his emotions. What was it like for his loved ones after the accident? Who was here with him for hours on end? Why was she here for him, where was his father? She looked at him, giving his hand a squeeze.  
"_I didn't want to leave in case you woke up.. I didn't want you to be alone, and confused. I mean, I wanted to wait for you._"  
John swallowed hard, and for a moment he felt his eyes watering. She kept speaking to him, even though he had closed his eyes again. "_I would have waited until they dragged me outta here by my hair, Johnny.. I.. I love you, you know? I just.._" She struggled to say the words, but she had bitten down on her lip. It was out, there was no going back. She didn't say anything else. It took him a moment to register it, and he found himself squeezing her hand. With a slow nod, he looked over at her to see she was almost crying again.  
It took everything in her to keep from wrapping her arms around him, and slowly he spoke.  
"I love you too." the words were whispered, whooshed out by a breath in his chest.  
Something inside her flickered on, and she smiled slightly as he kept nodding. Kept nodding.  
_She waited for me.. She's been waiting for me. _  
Slowly she rose, and he looked up at her as she set down next to him and held a hand against his cheek - which he leaned in to but kept his eyes on her as she leaned down and kissed his brow gently, before she moved down and her lips were against his own in a gentle kiss. The kiss that startled him slightly, but he squeezed onto her hand gently as she pulled away only to lower back down to kiss him again. His heart monitor began to keep with the way his heartbeat started to rise, but they didn't notice. Again, though for a moment that lasted for what seemed like forever, they were in another world while they kissed one another. Slowly she pulled away, smiling.  
"_I always knew you'd come around._" she said, quietly while she stroked his cheek gently under her open palm. Johnny's piercing blue eyes stared up into her's, and again he took her hand into his. She was rubbing his face now, so gently that it was putting him to sleep.  
Nothing protested in his head. The voices were quiet.  
Gently, her hand began to run through his hair, then it went back to his face when she ran her fingers across his cheek gently before she pulled away and sat back down in her chair. His hand was still encased in her's when she lay down her head, but he had opened his eyes again to look at her. "Go home and sleep, Dawn. Don't sleep in that chair like that.."  
She shook her head in protest, "_I'll be okay,_"  
He sighed, pulling her hand slightly until she lifted his head to look at him, "_Hmm?_"  
John motioned to her, mouthing a _come here_.  
She obeyed, standing and sitting down next to him until he sighed quietly and pulled her down, enough to where she got the hint and lie down next to him, up against his good side. She lay her head down on his chest, and he found himself wrapping his arm down under her neck and around her shoulders to hold her close to him, even though they were separated by the sheet. They both sighed in sync, and slowly he drifted off to sleep.. Into the darkness that awaited him.

**II.**

It wasn't but a few months, when Johnny healed, until he moved out of Herb's house and into another town. Dawn moved in with him. After a few weeks, things went back to normal. Johnny got a job, tutoring adolescents privately during the day. Dawn got a job as a waitress, at a diner half a mile or so down from their house - and they lived. Contently at that, though Johnny rarely left the house. He was growing weaker and weaker by the week, it seemed. Eventually his eyes seemed to be sunken into his skull, and his eyes had begun to dull - his skin, still deathly pale. Often he would shoot awake at night, and she would hold him until he calmed down and went to sleep again, whispering gentle words to him.  
When his birthday came, she slipped from their bed and baked him a cake - so that he could have it when he woke. When he did wake, it was to the smell of it, but luckily she had just gotten it done and was decorating it when he came down the stairs, and into the kitchen with a tired smile.  
"What are you up to?"  
Dawn jumped, flinched at the suddenness of his voice and she whirled around, smiling innocently as she scampered over to him and threw her arms around his neck, standing up on her tip-toes to kiss him.  
"_Good morning,_" She whispered, only inches away from his mouth as she stared up at him, grinning. He stared down into her eyes, smirking slightly until he leaned down to rub his nose gently against her's.  
"Good morning," he replied, "Now what are you up to?"  
A giggle rang out from her chest as she pulled away from him and walked back to where she was decorating the big, white cake; but by the look of the slight bags under her eyes, she had been up for a while now. She mocked his voice, "_Nuthin._"  
"It doesn't look nor smell like nuthin" He said, limping up behind her to peek over her shoulder. "..Why did you bake me a cake?"  
She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "_Because it's your birthday, you freakin' kook._"  
He looked at her, spinning her around and looking down at her with a gentle smile. "You shouldn't have, Dawn.. How long have you been up?"  
She put a hand against his chest, "_Long enough, now go sit down so I can finish?_"  
Johnny smiled warmly down at her, looking down at his feet nervously for a moment before he put a hand against the side of her arm and leaned down to kiss her mouth gently.  
"Thank you."  
She smiled up at him almost bashfully before she merely nodded to him, turning away as he released her and sat down at the kitchen table. He grabbed a book, though he ended up just watching as she decorated it, hands very careful and yet powerful. After a few minutes, she sighed and sunk her shoulders slightly, looking back at him.  
"_Would you stop staring at me, John Smith?_"  
A laugh erupted from his chest, and he shook his head before she began to laugh along with him with the rolling of her eyes. He grabbed the book again and read it with an amused smile on his face. It wasn't but about seven minutes until a hand grabbed his book, and it was yanked gently from his hands to be tossed onto the kitchen table with a papery, sliding thud noise. He flinched slightly, but relaxed when he looked up at her and she sighed before sitting down on his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck and entangling her fingers in his soft, sandy brunette hair.  
"_Your cakes done._"  
"Is that right?"  
"_Mmhm._"  
He nodded, holding a hand gently on the small of back as he looked at her, eyes darting from her eyes to her mouth. He swallowed hard, almost uneasily as he stared at her, but he just gave a smile and nodded again before squeezing her to him. "Thank you, Dawn. You didn't have to,"  
She leaned against him, wrapping her other arm around him now and pulling him closer to her. "_I know that, but I did anyway. Happy Birthday, Johnny._"  
He nodded, smiling and letting out a gentle chuckle at her, his lips curling over his teeth in a warm grin.  
Something inside her began to ache by how close they were. Slowly, Dawn pulled away from him and walked over, grabbing the pan that held the cake and bringing it over to the table to set it in front of him. She stood before him, arms crossed over her chest as she looked from the cake to him, and back again.  
"_What do you think?_"  
John looked over at it, and was taken back almost instantly.  
The thing was damn-near elegant. It was one of the most perfect looking cakes he had ever seen in his twenty nine years of life, minus five.  
"Well, I.." He closed his jaw, which had dropped a little farther than he wanted. She was watching him, trying not to giggle.  
He let out a gentle chuckle, wrinkling his brow quickly and thoughtfully,  
"Wow, Dawn.. Were you a baker, something?"  
She laughed quietly, running a bashful hand through her golden-blond locks. "_For a year or so, yeah. Do you like it?_"  
Johnny looked at her, nodding "Of course, it's wonderful. You've got a creative hand.. You always did."  
She shrugged, giggling quietly and looking at it. It was a white cake, white icing. It had flowers around the edges, and in the middle it had "_**Happy B-Day Johnny**_", but the letters came out of vine-like plants made of icing, and in the middle was a small tree, with a heart formed out of the branches.  
"You must have been working on that for hours.."  
"_Hour, or so.. Maybe an hour and a half.. Who looks at clocks, anyway?_" She shrugged, like it was nothing.  
Johnny stood up, next to her though he was a head taller. At first, lost for words. "Why did you.. You shouldn't have-" He swallowed. Wrong words."Thank you, Dawn."  
She looked over at him, nodding before she walked over and wrapped her arms around him - sliding her arms through his unbuttoned sweater and hugging him close. "_You're welcome._"  
When she looked up at him, she stood up on her tip toes and let her eyes drift closed as she kissed him. He leaned into her slightly and slowly, but as they kissed it grew more passionate through the seconds that passed until it left them both breathless, and she broke away because of the way she had begun to long for him. Dawn put her hand on his chest, smiling but picking softly at one of the buttons of his shirt. He held a hand gently under her elbow, getting her attention as he leaned down and kissed her again - long and deeply at first, but then he pulled away and kissed her once again, more quickly and leaving her heart racing in her chest.  
Her head began to spin, but even still she moved closer to him until their bodies were touching and leaning against each other.  
Her blue eyes stared up at him, and while he looked down at her he smiled and mouthed a quiet _I love you_ to her, that left her grinning ear to ear at him and nodding.  
"_I love you too, Johnny._"  
She decided then, that if he asked her to go to bed with him that night that she'd say yes. And if he didn't ask first, she would.  
Thankfully, he ended up asking her while holding her on the couch later that night by the fireplace. She agreed.  
They had one another, to make up for the lost time that they hadn't, and just to have each other.  
Afterwards, they lie in bed, holding one another. He mentioned how odd their love story was.. Such an odd story. She whispered, in addition that it was romantic as it was odd. John agreed with her, and he wondered quietly, if she wrote a book about it, what would she call it? She answered with a quiet giggle, "_A Dustland Fairytale._"  
Slowly, she ran her hand against the soft skin of his bare chest - the couple hairs there tickling against her palm, but even there his skin was soft and warm. Slowly her hand ran up, against his neck where she eventually crawled up to lie atop him; his bare skin soft against her own; and kissed against, giggling quietly before she began to kiss up his jawline, his cheek, and then his mouth again. His hand held her at her back, and he leaned his head up slightly to kiss her back until she pulled away and laid back down next to him, her head against his chest, and her hand accompanied her head there.  
As she was falling asleep, he reached his hand over to take hold of her's atop his chest. They were still in this frozen embrace when she awoke again the next morning.


	6. Volumne Five

**Volume 5. **

**I.**

Months later, it was, a Tuesday. The doorbell rang, and Johnny's eyes snapped open from where they had been closed for a nap that never came. He pushed his legs off the side of the couch - holding his cane against the floors. For a moment he stared at the door, it wasn't Dawn. She had a key. He contemplated even answering, before he rose and opened it forth to stare down at Sam Weizak.  
"Hello John."  
Silence.  
"May I come in?"  
More silence, but John nodded, moving from the doorway to make room for Sam to enter, which he did. John closed the door behind him. Sam looked around, "Where's Miss Edwards?"  
"She's out, with one of her girlfriends.."  
John sunk into the couch, tiredly with a sigh. "How did you find me? My father?"  
Sam nodded, smiling. "Stopped off to see him, and he told me you moved to a new town. He's worried about you. And so am I,"  
Johnny shrugged,  
"There's nothing to worry about, I'm taking care of myse-lf.." His voice cracked, "It's about time."  
Sam raised an eyebrow upward, "I'm still your doctor, John. You're still under my care. We have to, well.. We have to stay in touch."  
Johnny shrugged, quirking an eyebrow upward. "Well,"  
Then the headache started.  
Sam looked around, smiling. "Nice place you have here.."  
Johnny held his hand against his temple, his voice lowering to a whisper. "It's home,"  
Sam rose, stood so that he towered over Johnny. "Those headaches are getting worse, aren't they?"  
John sighed, "Three or four times a day, sometimes."  
They usually went away quicker when Dawn was here, rubbing his shoulder or making him some tea.  
Sam sighed thoughtfully, before setting his bag down on the table and opening it up. "I brought you some new medication,"  
Johnny looked up, though his head pounded he protested. "No! No more pills,"  
"The healing process is slow, I've told you many times-"  
John interrupted him, mid sentence with a warning glare starting in hie eyes. "I'm not getting better, I'm getting worse.. Isn't that right?"  
Sam stood up straight, silently defeated until he looked over at John and nodded, "Alright." He took a seat in a chair, next to the pale-skinned man. Bags had formed under Johnny's eyes, and his eyes had sunken into his skull. His profile continuously seemed to be thinning out, and within the matter of a few more years it appeared that he would be a walking skeleton.  
"Alright," Sam said. He looked at John, whom never moved his eyes from the man.  
"Over the past few months I've done some research, into the area of psychic phenomenon. Some cases, such as your's, have been documented I was.. Surprised, to discover. And the pattern, is always the same. As the spells the, the visions, grow stronger and more powerful.. So the body weakens."  
Johnny looked at him, a smile curving onto his mouth that made Sam extremely uneasy. "You mean I'm gonna die?" he grinned, though it faded to no more than an amused smirk. "How long?"  
Sam shook his head, "I think we can - we can slow down the process. Reverse it, even."  
"How do you do that?"  
"Come back with me,"  
"Where?"  
Sam furrowed his eyebrows, "To the clinic, of course."  
"No! Absolutely no."  
Sam sighed desperately, "John, you must!"  
John looked at him, gaze laced in suspicion. "Why? So you can study me?"  
"Nuh," Sam protested. "So I can protect you. You need to be in a, in a controlled environment, John."  
John scoffed, and he paused before he nodded. "I need to show you something." He stood, and began walking before Sam could answer. "Come with me."  
Johnny lead him up the stairs, to a small white closet where he had to unlock it to open it. When John did open it, he swung open the door.  
"The cards and letters just keep pouring in,"  
Sam glanced at it, eyes wide and curious before he looked at John innocently. "What is all this?"  
John sighed, "It's people, I- Lost dogs, lost children, lost lives."  
Sam glanced into the closet again, "You haven't even opened them.."  
"I don't have to," Johnny said. "They all want the same thing. Reassurance, help, love - things I can't give them. My father sends this stuff, but I just let it pile up.."  
"Why?" Sam asked, "Why do you keep it?"  
"This is why I can't go out, live my life. Why I have to stay locked up here in the house, I'm already living in a _**controlled environment**_, Sam."  
Johnny closed the door to the closet and locked it. "Nothing can touch me here," Again, his blue eyes shifted to Sam. The look in John Smith's eyes sent an uncomfortable shiver up the doctor's spine. There was always something within Johnny Smith's eye.. Something tired, and something heartbreakingly sad.  
"Except for Dawn, I'm alone." He said, "I'm safe."

After Sam left, Johnny was alone again. He sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and contemplated silently to himself, wondering if he should kill himself or not. The only thing keeping him from doing it, he realized, was Dawn Edwards. He couldn't hurt her like that.  
Then he wondered, if he were to do it, how would he do it? He had so many pills.. It would be so easy to O.D.. But was that too overplayed? There were plenty of places in this big old house where he could hang himself. But would he be able to make the noose? Probably not. He certainly wouldn't perform something as gruesome as Frank Dodd.  
He let himself begin to doze, but it didn't last long and again he was awake and waiting for his girl to come home.  
After about an hour of this, Johnny bundled up in his coat and limped his way down to the nearest jewelry store. He bought her a ring. He was going to propose to her, that night after she got home. It was a beautiful little silver Claddagh, because she said that if he ever got her a ring that that is what she wanted. The heart was a diamond, and there were parts of the crown above the heart that were also diamonds. The band was a Celtic-knot. It was a beautiful little ring.  
He spent the rest of the day cleaning the house, and making himself look as presentable as he possibly could. Not too much, because he knew she wouldn't want him looking any different. That was the thing about Dawn, she loved him how he looked - she wouldn't want him any other way.  
After he finished, it was near dark. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the couch and watching television, waiting for her with the ring enclosed in it's little velvet black box, held in his hand. Slowly, he practiced how he would propose to her in his head.

**II.**

Dawn looked over at Rosalie Young - the two women had met at college. They had been friends ever since then, and had never had a terribly large fallout. Rosalie drove a silver Volkswagen, Dawn in the backseat and Alexandria Love, Rosalie's associate, in the front passenger. A giggle erupted from the three girls, and Dawn shook her head,  
"_So, tell us more about this Johnny. You hardly said a thing about him, I mean damn._" Rose said, quietly as she glanced at Dawn in the rear view.  
A rosy blush came to Dawn's cheeks, and she shrugged. "_I loved the guy ever since high school,_"  
A chorus of _awwww's_ broke from the two other women, causing all three to giggle again.  
"_He's beautiful, Rose, I mean.. He gets me, you know? Hey, you remember Jayson Crane? You remember how when we went out, we had nothing in common? Johnny's the complete opposite._"  
Rose smiled, "_Well I'm glad you found someone, Dawn, It's about time._"  
Alexandria contemplated to herself, "_You said his name was John Smith, right?_"  
Dawn swallowed, getting a bit uneasy now. Defensive. "_Yes,_"  
"_I read about a John Smith in the papers.. Some psychic._"  
Dawn nodded slowly, "_Yeah.. That's him. That's my Johnny._"  
The car grew silent. An uneasy silence, and suddenly Rose glanced back at her. "_You're dating a psychic? Dawn.. I thought you were an odd one before,_" Humor rang in her voice. "_But I mean -_"  
Dawn looked out the windshield. Suddenly, her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped.  
"_Rose, Rose watch out!_"  
Alexandria shrieked, and Rose faced forward but it was too late. The car swerved, but the other car was speeding along in the wrong lane and she didn't see quick enough to get out of the way.  
The two cars met head on, and Rosalie Young's little Volkswagen flipped into the air and spun, landing hard on it's roof. Rose died instantly, and blood sprayed against the windshield in front of her. Suddenly, the gas tank spurt open, and fuel leaked slowly from the line - quickly, without hesitation it ignited. The car set aflame.  
Dawn let out a scream, almost instantly. Alexandria followed, and quickly Dawn began to try and escape. A voice began to yell in her head, _Escape, get away, claw, punch, break, whatever you can! Bones heal, hearts don't when they stop! Get out!_  
Dawn began to hit against the car door, punched at it even, but she was in the middle of the three back seats and the seat belt began to hold so hard against her chest that it hurt to move. It was stuck. "_Help!_" She shrieked, "_HELP ME, SOME ONE PLEASE!_"  
She clawed at the leather and the cloth on the door until her nails began to break off bleed, smearing crimson against the gray fabric; and she began to cry hysterically. Smoke started to creep, slink in until it started to fill the car, and it burned at her throat and her chest as she pounded on the window pathetically.  
She began to cough, cough violently. Another shriek erupted from Alexandria, who had begun to burn to death in the front seat. The smell of burning hair and flesh gagged Dawn Edwards, and she cried hysterically while she clawed at her seat belt.  
"_No,_" She yelled, pulling and ripping at it and smearing her own blood on the gray fabric. "_No, no! Come undone!_"  
She coughed, and slowly the flames began to lap at her feet and she began to kick and thrash about wildly before she began to scream Johnny's name. Over and over, she screamed for him. Maybe he'd hear her, maybe with his mind he'd hear her, and save her. She couldn't die like this, not with Johnny at home waiting for her. She screamed out again in pain as the flames lapped at her feet and legs, and slowly she felt her skin begin to bubble and glow red as it burned.  
The pain was unbearable, and the coughing had begun to sting her chest as she felt her skin begin to singe off, and smoke fill her lungs. Tears screamed down her face, but they dried off almost as quickly as they came from the extreme, sick heat that was now burning her away legs first.  
"_Johnny! Jo-_" She coughed, blood beginning to bubble from her lips. "_Johnny! Help me, please! Don't let me-_" She coughed again, blood splattered from her. She could taste it.. Metallic and salty against her tongue. "_Don't let me die like this! JOHNNY!_"  
She cried out wildly, and her skin screamed far more loudly than she could, though it was silent as the fire crisped through her flesh. Her skin had begun to glow a disturbing color of red, and it blistered away as the smoke encircled her. She gave one last struggle, kicking and thrashing as best she could, clawing at the cloth on the roof - kicking at the front seat, where Rosalie flopped around limply, or what was left of her.. She had punched a hole through the window, but it did no good. Smoke consumed her, and slowly she stared upward at death, as it beckoned it's bony finger at her and whispered grimly for her to let go.  
No pain now.. "_Johnny.. Oh Johnny, I'm sorry. I tried, I tried Johnny._" She whispered his name once more, before everything went black.

_A light.. A light shone through the darkness. She was flying? Yes? No.. Maybe not. Suddenly all was black but that light, and voices echoed around her._  
_A hallway? Perhaps it was a hallway.. Of some sort. The light, get to the light. Maybe Johnny would be there - maybe she'd wake up in a hospital. She'd rather wake up in a hospital with no limbs than die, than leave without seeing her Johnny one last time. She tried to whisper his name, but she was mute - as if something has stolen away her tongue. But nevertheless, she kept her feet walking down the hallway. Voices began to dance around her, some whispering in tongues that she couldn't understand. Strange, ancient tongues.. No matter what, she never wanted to stop until she got to the light. For some reason, it seemed safe there.. She just had to get to it. _  
_The journey was shorter than she had expected. Though ghostly voices echoed around her, in circles, she was close now.. So close that she could touch it..._

**III.**

Johnny got the call at two in the morning. The phone rang and shrieked loudly, so loud that it echoed against almost every wall in the big, old house.  
"Hello, is this John Smith, no middle initial?"  
Johnny held the phone to his ear, exhausted. He had fallen asleep.. Somehow, he had knocked out cold. How could he have fallen asleep? Where's Dawn?  
"Yes, this is John Smith."  
"Mr. Smith, please hold for a moment?"  
"Wait, I-"  
Too late. _Clunk_.  
John grumbled into the phone, bemused. A call at two in the morning to be put on hold. Idiots.. For some reason, he refrained from hanging up the phone. Something told him to keep it against his ear.  
A different voice now.  
"Mr. Smith?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I'm sorry to have to give this news to you, but Miss Dawn Edwards has been in a terrible, tragic-"  
Johnny's face grew hard, like a stone. Flames flashed into his head, the sound of a scream. It was so hot..  
"No," He whispered.  
"Mr. Smith?"  
"NO!" John screamed into the phone, then he spoke very quickly in a fit of words and hysteria. "WHERE IS DAWN? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER? TELL ME!"  
"Mr. Smith, please calm down,"  
"NO! NO NO,"  
His voice had risen, to some kind of an up roaring, squeaking, mess of emotions. He had to calm down, maybe she isn't dead. She couldn't be dead,  
"I'm sorry," Johnny said, voice choked with tears.  
"Please, where is Dawn?"  
"It's understandable, Mr. Smith.. I'm sorry, but i'll give you the story as I know it. Dawn Edwards was in a vehicle with two other women, and another was on the wrong side of the road - another woman, fumbling with her purse or something, as we understand. The vehicle with Dawn Edwards, Rosalie Young, and the other girl is unidentified, collided head on with the other vehicle. The drivers died instantly, but the other girls - well, they died from massive burns, and smoke in the lungs. I'm sorry, Mr. Smith.. I'm very sorry, to give you this news so late at night, but.. I'm afraid Miss Edwards has died. We'll need you to come down to the station and identify her remain-"  
Johnny stopped listening. He pulled the phone slowly down from his ear to press it against his chest, until his knuckles were white. He clenched closed his jaw and tried to hold them back, but tears burst from his eyes and he sucked in a breath to try and keep from screaming. Johnny sobbed, a grown man, scarred terribly by his life full of misfortune. His life was just getting better.. She was making it better. He was going to propose to her. John thought of the way she held him at night, when he shot awake. The way she would kiss him, and rub his chest until he drifted off to sleep.. No.. This couldn't be.  
He had forgotten about the vision. It was too late. Dawn was dead.. Burned to death. Died, entrapped within an automobile as it burst into flames and claimed her from him.  
The phone slipped from his grip, dangling now by the chord with a gentle "Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith are you there? Hello?" repeating over and over from it.  
He didn't respond, only cried and lurched. His stomach rolled terribly around, round and round. It churned - suddenly, he thought he was going to be sick. His head began to pound terribly, and still he refrained from screaming.  
_The girl is gone..._  
Johnny's knees grew weak, and his legs enfolded under him to bring him to his knees onto the floor with a loud, wooden thud. This being where he gripped his fists into his hair and cried, sobbed and hyperventilated. It took everything in him not to start ripping his hair from his own scalp. Eventually he fell to his side limply, but he wept into his hands until he felt he had no more tears left, leaving him just to heave painfully and whimper.  
Dawn was dead. Johnny was alive. He was alone.


	7. Epilogue

**I.**

Johnny felt as the bullet drove into his hand. A sledgehammer, like he had felt so many years ago.. That day was merely a haze in his head now, which had grown even more weary than anyone could have thought. Blood sprayed, the shotgun was knocked from his hand.  
_No, _he thought. _I can't fail.. Stillson must die._  
The laughing tiger came into his mind now, only it was Stillson without the suit on. It was a human skin with a tiger beneath it, snarling and growling and thrashing out it's claws. Stillson would cause World War Three if he wasn't destroyed..  
Stillson held Sarah's baby in front of him, like a shield from Johnny's bullet. But now the baby was pulled away, back and safe in Sarah's arms. He stared up at Johnny with wide eyes, awaiting his death until Sonny shot and knocked John's gun away from him. It was over..  
Another shot rang, and Johnny felt as it drove itself into his gut as he stumbled forward blindly. Suddenly he was in the air, flying.. Flying again, like the night of the crash when he had flown out of the windshield.  
Then he hit the ground.. A wooden pew collapsing under his dead weight with a loud crashing noise. The pain was almost unbearable, and he could feel the blood soaking through his shirt. His hand screamed no matter what way he tried to move it - then hands were on his collar, yanking him forward off the ground. Johnny winced loudly, and he looked up into the eyes of Greg Stillson. The politician's eyes were wide and a dark blue, almost violet as he glared down at John Smith with a disgusted sneer,  
"Who are you, you sonovabitch who sent you? HUH?"  
John smirked, grabbing the man's hand and smearing it with his own blood.  
_A motel room.. Stillson sat on the edge of the bed, the television humming somewhere in the distance. He hadn't shaved, and his face was pale and clammy with a cold sweat. Smoke rose slowly out of the unfinished cigarette, burning away in the ash tray._  
_I'm finished, he thought. My destiny is gone.. My dad was right. I'm a runt. Just a damn runt, with no future. It wasn't supposed to end like this.._  
_He drew the gun from the end table next to him. It was loaded, and heavy in his weak arm - his veins were black with the numerous heroine doses he injected himself with over the past days. It was really over.._  
_Stillson rested his head on the point of the gun, pushing it up under his chin until his skin stretched.._  
_Then he pulled the trigger, and blood splattered about the room - across the cover of Newsweek, with the cover picture being him, holding the baby child in front of him as a shield. On the cover, it read __NO FUTURE FOR STILLSON__._ It was over.  
Johnny smirked up at him, his eyes glowing in satisfaction.  
"It's over," He whispered. Stillson searched his eyes, but still he found nothing."You're finished."  
Stillson scoffed, throwing Johnny back against the wooden floors and grabbing Sonny Elliman, his henchman, by the collar of his leather jacket. "Who was that kid with the camera? He was taking pictures! Who was he? Huh?"  
Sonny stared down at him, disgusted. "I didn't see him,"  
Greg yanked Sonny to the side, out of his way strongly. "You a*****e!" He shouted, charging out of the church in search of the photographer. He never found him.  
Sonny glanced down at his bloody victim, and for a long moment he stared at him before turning away and following Stillson out of the church. It was over.  
Johnny lay down against the wooden floors, letting out a struggled breath followed by a gentle wince.. Slowly he awaited death, until Sarah came into his view. He longed for her, to hold her. He forced himself upward, but the pain shooting through his gut stopped him half way, and he held his arms out towards her in a childish manner.. _Sarah.. _  
She met him, getting down onto her knees next to him, "_Oh, Johnny, why?_" She was crying, "_Why?_"  
_Don't cry, Sarah.. I did it._ He thought, though he could have sworn he had said the words aloud.  
She was wrapping her arms around him, one under his neck to hold him to her, the other one joining it. Slowly, he reached an arm around her back and held her to him while she cried. He whispered softly into her ear as tears began to form in his eyes.  
"Goodbye.."  
She whimpered, blubbering as she held him tightly to her, burying her head in his shoulder. "_Oh Johnny.. I love you._"  
That was it. It was over. Slowly, his arms became too weak to hold onto her and they fell from her limply. She lie him down against the wood and buried her head in his chest.. The smell of him was faint under the smell of his own blood. But it was there. She engulfed herself in it, no matter how faint, and she cried hysterically into his chest as he slipped away from her.. A tear fell from his eye as everything went black. Sounds faded from him slowly, the sound of Sarah's tears. They faded until they were nothing.. Nothing.

**II.**

Silence now. Darkness. A voice? He opened his eyes, it was bright.. A bright room with nothing but white, the ceiling was too high to see, and the walls were a bright, eye-piercing white that beamed out and made everything seem blurry. It was so bright.. Quickly, he tried to shield himself, but a hand was on his chest. The pain in his gut was gone.  
"_Shh,_" The voice cooed, very quietly and gentle. A familiar voice? He opened his eyes again.  
There she was.. Her milky skin, and her bright blue eyes. Her golden-blond hair was in perfect curls, and he could have sworn it shined so elegantly that it sparkled. As he looked closer to her eyes, he noticed that her blue pools were made out of stars.. The night sky.  
He tried to mouth her name, but all at once he was mute.  
She loomed above him, rubbing his chest gently.  
_Dawn. _  
She smiled down at him, kindly and beautifully. A gentle laugh escaped from her as she stroked his cheek, repeating him from so long ago, when he sat by her after she was beaten by the brute of a man.. When she too was helpless. "_You look a whole hot mess, darlin'_"  
He was breathless.. He let out a breath, and it whooshed from his chest but she shook her head, her voice reassuring and calming. "_It's okay, Johnny. Let go.. Let go._"  
John stared up at her with wide eyes. She had no scars, not a part of her was marked or disfigured in anyway.. She was perfect. Flawless. All he could do was stare. Powerless.  
"_Let go,_"  
Slowly, he nodded his head at her.  
_Okay,_ he thought. _Okay, Dawn. Whatever you want.._  
She smiled warmly down at him, before moving a hand over his eyes and pulling down his eyelids with her fingers. "_Close your eyes.. It'll be okay. I'm here now._"  
He couldn't move, he was paralyzed..  
Darkness. Her silken touch was gone.  
When he opened his eyes again, everything was dark but a light. A hallway, perhaps? Of some sort, a hallway.. Yes.. His brain ordered him to walk, and slowly he did.. He didn't limp. His knees didn't ache, and his thighs weren't sore. He walked.. Perfectly, he walked. But he could not run. Something forbid him to. Walk.. Keep walking.  
The voices started then, started to circle and dance around him. His mother, whispering to him quietly. A girl, Alma Frechette, perhaps? Yes, that was it. Others.. Ghosts. They danced and spoke to him, some in tongues he couldn't place.. Where was he? He couldn't ask. He was still mute. The only think he could move was his legs.. Get to the light. Something told him it was safe there.  
It was then, suddenly that he was there. Dawn's voice met him almost instantly, but at first he couldn't see her, or understand what she was saying.  
He found his tongue."..Dawn?"  
The girl stepped from the light, her eyes gentle and her smile warm as she looked at him. "_Hey.._"  
Briefly, it seemed he couldn't get to her.. A barrier. Then it faded, and her hand was taking his from his side.  
"_I always knew you'd come around, Johnny._" she said, "_I always knew._"  
His mother.. Behind Dawn, she stood with a smile on her face. The look of insanity that had claimed her eyes the last few years of her life was gone, leaving her with a content motherly gaze. She was young again, beautiful. Slowly, Dawn lead him into the light. He could walk, move freely now.  
In a slow and tender manner, Johnny took her hand and her waist - Slowly, they began to dance.

It was over.


End file.
